


Baldur's Gate: Prophecy

by anon4132



Category: Baldur's Gate
Genre: Gen, fan fiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-22
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2019-07-01 02:50:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 68,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15765078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anon4132/pseuds/anon4132
Summary: My very first fanfic. This is based on the very first RPG I've played, the Baldur's Gate series. The story details the events after the Bhaalspawn Saga, specifically what happens with my main character, an elven Sorceress named Lauranna. I'll be submitting by chapters. This is my first time writing fanfic so it's a bit of a challenge for me. Critique would be nice. Thank you.





	1. Chapter 1

**Prophecy**

**_ Prologue _ **

She feels the marble-like floor on her cheek. It feels cold to her skin. She can also feel her numerous injuries. Her ears are ringing, her vision blurred, a broken rib or two, a twisted ankle, her left arm is probably dislocated, and there are numerous gashes and burns on her body. She’s a bloody mess. It’s times like these that she wishes she belongs to a hardier race such as dwarves. Elves are just not built for endurance. She tries to look up to see her companions, but it’s hard. She hears Jaheira groan. Thank the Goddess she’s alive. Lauranna could distinctly remember Jaheira trying to get in between her and a spell casted by Amelyssan and both of them being blown almost off the platform. Amelyssan, that lying, two-faced, venomous snake. Lauranna could just barely see Amelyssan just a few meters in front from where she’s lying face down on a gigantic disc floating in nothingness. The Throne of Bhaal.

She can see Amelyssan at the center, writhing and chanting within the well of power, drinking in the vast energies that consists of the many essences of Bhaal from his murdered children. Lauranna and Imoen are the last of these children. She knows that when Amelyssan is done with the well, she would come for her and Imoen’s essence next. She needs to get up. It cannot end like this. She cannot allow Amelyssan to achieve her victory. After all she’s been through, all the pain and suffering, watching her loved ones die, her father – adopted father – no! She has to stop Amelyssan. She tries to stand using all of her willpower. Amelyssan must not be allowed to absorb her dead father’s essence. Bhaal’s essence must be destroyed once and for all.

And then suddenly, a wave of powerful and unnatural energy radiates from the well at the center of the throne, almost throwing her off her feet. That’s a bad sign. She can see Minsc and Imoen on the other side of the platform trying to get up as well, both gravely injured. She can’t see Sarevok. That worries her. A surprise. But she can’t worry about that now. They have to do something. They have to stop Amelyssan.

She tries to think of a spell that’s powerful enough to disrupt Amelyssan’s ritual, but nothing’s coming to mind. She has so little energy left. She’s not even sure it’s enough to stop this madness. Is there even enough time? Jaheira grabs her arm.

“Lauranna? What in the name of Sylvanus was that?” she asks. “It felt unnatural.”

“I don’t know,” is all Lauranna could mumble at that point. She’s honestly not sure what that wave of energy was or what it could mean. It could be the well reacting to Amelyssan or a warning that the end is nearing.

Jaheira pulls herself up with a groan. “Well, whatever it was, we can’t let it distract us. It looks like that two-faced bitch is almost done with her ritual. Any ideas on how to –“

Jaheira’s voice cut off. Lauranna looks around. Jaheir’s frozen in place. She looks at the well and can see Amelyssan frozen in place as well, as if a time stop spell has been casted. Everything just went still. No sound. Not even the rhythmic thrumming of the throne or the well of energy.

She then hears a voice, faint, almost indiscernible.

_“Look deep inside.”_

“What?” The voice sounds familiar, like a dream vaguely remembered.

_“Look deep inside and you will find you have all that you need.”_

She doesn’t know why, but she finds warmth in that voice. She finds herself trusting it despite not knowing who it belongs to. She looks deep within herself, just like she did during the final confrontation with Jon Irenicus. Back then, she found the strength to fight, she found the willpower to take back what was stolen from her.

Darkness. Darkness surrounds her. Or is she the darkness? She’s not sure. She feels cold, alone, afraid. She sees something out the corner of her vision. A flicker of some sort. She doesn’t understand. What is it?

“Hello?” she calls out. Nothing. She screams. Nothing. There it is again, a flicker. A small, very faint light amidst the darkness. She tries to reach for it. She doesn’t really know why, but she knows that if only she can get to it, everything will be okay. But no matter how hard she tries, the light is just beyond her reach. She starts to get desperate. Why? Why is this happening? Did she not do enough? Is this her destiny, to be embroiled in darkness and despair forever? She screams.

**_ Chapter I _ **

Lauranna sits bolt upright gasping for breath. She’s sweating despite the cold, her long golden hair sticks wetly on her face and neck. It’s still dark. She’s still in her room at an inn in the small village of Amkethran. What was that dream about? It’s all over, so why did she have that dream?

“It’s just trauma,” she whispers to herself. It’s all still fresh for her, the battle to decide the faith of Bhaal’s bloody throne and all the essence of his murdered children, including Lauranna’s own Bhaalspawn essence. Most of her wounds haven’t even healed yet. Her shoulder and her broken ribs still feel sore even after Jaheira’s healing. But that dream, something about that dream seems ominous…and disturbing. She needs fresh air.

She looks down and sees at her side, snuggling a pillow, her familiar, Calima. The cat-sized fairy dragon purrs softly and scratches at the pillow she’s snuggling. She contemplates on waking her, but decides not to. She needs rest. She’s been through enough.

She slowly gets out of bed to freshen up before putting on some fresh clothes. The washstand is not far from the bed, just a few steps from it. The room itself is quite small really. There’s only three furnishings, a small bed that could barely fit two, a washstand with a large mirror above it nailed to the wall, and a single wooden stool. There’s no closet, so her things are neatly bundled up on the floor at the foot of the bed.

She walks to the washstand and pour some water into the small, chipped bowl on the table and begin to wash her face. She could light a candle, but did not. The light from the moon coming through the small window beside the bed is enough. Besides, she doesn’t want to wake Calima. She takes a towel from the stool and wipe her face.

She studies herself on the mirror. She looks at her current features. Physically, she hasn’t really changed all that much since leaving Candlekeep, a part of being elven. She has acquired some scars though. She has a small scar that runs vertically across the left side of her lips. She has numerous scars on her back and one on the side of her neck that runs from behind her head down to her collarbone. Most of her scars are courtesy of the tortures she endured at the hands of Jon Irenicus and the rest are just wear and tear courtesy of the life she’s lead so far. Most of them are now faded though and does not spoil her most prominent feature as an elf. Her beauty. Her long golden hair is said to shimmer and glow softly under certain lights. It frames a heart shaped face that has deep blue eyes, a nose that gently slopes down to a small round point, full pinkish lips, and a long graceful neck. She’s lightly built just like the rest of her kind, but she has well defined curves. Her hips are wide and her bosom full. She’s well aware of her looks and have used it on more than one occasion either to get out of trouble or acquire something that she needs. She’s never really thought about it much though. To her, it’s just another tool she can use to her advantage.

But the life she’s lead has taken its toll on her. She looks a little sallow, her once vibrant pale cream skin has now become a little wan. Her eyes and cheeks are a little sunken, and a few dark lines have started to form under her eyes. But the biggest change she notices though is not something physical. Her eyes are different now. They look haunted at times, especially when she’s looking at herself in the mirror. She sighs. “I need to take better care of myself.” A tool needs to be polished and cared for in order for it to be effective.

She takes off her drenched night shift and drapes it near the foot of the bed, being careful not to disturb Calima. She pulls out a fresh shift and one of her more casual dress, a thing made of simple wool but cut finely, from her bundle of belongings. She puts those on and pulls out her boots from under the bed. They look pretty worn out, just like how she’s been feeling recently. She should get new ones. She checks herself once again on the mirror and decides to give her hair a quick brush and tie it into a pony tail with a ribbon. She gives herself one final look on the mirror to straighten out her dress. She nods in satisfaction. She takes her cloak from a peg behind the door and walks out her room.

Lauranna descends down the steps leading to the inn common room. Before she even gets there, she could already hear the ruckus and music. It’s no surprise to her that the common room is still full of village people and traveling merchants. They’re still celebrating. There’s a troupe of traveling minstrels playing joyous music atop a stage set up by Zakee, the owner of the inn. The excitement hasn’t waned at all. They see her making her way through the throng and call and wave drunkenly, some offering her drinks. She greets them back and refuse the drinks politely.

They know so little. They don’t really know how close it came or what was at stake. But they don’t really need to know every detail. To them, their village was liberated from a tyrannical Bhaalspawn, so a grand celebration should be in order. To them, that’s enough.

As she makes her way towards the entrance of the inn, she sees (and hears) Minsc drinking with a few of the farmers and merchants near the bar, laughing uproariously and clapping his drinking buddies on the back. He still has his left arm in a sling and a bandage is wrapped across his midsection. His injuries haven’t completely healed despite Jaheira’s efforts it seems. But to be fair, Jaheira didn’t come out of the fight unscathed. She has injuries as well. So for her to have done all this despite her current physical condition is sort of miraculous really. Lauranna thought of Imoen as well. She had the worst of it, but Jaheira assured her that Imoen will be fine. She just needs proper rest and a couple more of her healing sessions. At least Minsc looks happy, laughing and drinking with the villagers. That probably means he’s on the mend. He’s so drunk though, he doesn’t even notice her pass by.

She walks out of the only inn in the entire village, leaving behind the music and ruckus. It’s still dark. The cold, early morning desert air greets her. The few people who had sense to turn in early last night are already up and about for early morning chores. They greet her and thank her once again for liberating their village as she passes by. She walks to the edge of the village trying to find a place where she could just be away from all the merrymaking. She needs to be alone after that particular dream.

She finds a small ridge on the eastern side of the village overlooking the desert. The air’s very cold but her cloak makes it comfortable enough. She sits down on a rock and stares out into the horizon, contemplating her dream. Is it a warning of a darker future? Somehow, she theorizes that this dream is tied in some way to the choice she made at the Throne of Bhaal. But why? Wasn’t her choice to destroy the remainder of Bhaal’s essence the right one? Was it wrong for her to choose to live as a mortal? Should she have taken Bhaal’s essence for herself?

“No! It is the right choice. This is the right path,” she tells herself with confidence. Somehow, saying it made her feel a little better. But at the back of her mind, a small voice is whispering to her that the choices she’s made and this path that she has chosen for herself will lead to an even darker place. This troubles her.

She suddenly hears the soft crunching of boots on dirt behind her. They are almost indiscernible even to her elven ears, despite the fact that they belong to a hulking figure of a man. It’s downright unfair that such a large and imposing human could move as silently as an elf. Sarevok walks over and stands next to her, looking out over the desert like some sentinel statue that the dessert had worn overtime but still looked mighty imposing.

“You look troubled. Don’t tell me you’re regretting your choice now,” he said with a small grin and a hint of mocking in his voice.

She scoffs. “No regrets. What I did was right. Besides, aren’t we done with this talk? Or have you decided to go back to being an evil, selfish, petty man?”

Sarevok chuckles. It sounds odd hearing this man chuckle of all things.

“No such thoughts. I too have no regrets as to what transpired on the throne.” It still surprises her to see Sarevok’s recent change of view on things. She really didn’t think that he could ever change so much in such a short span of time.

But this entire exchange feels awkward to Lauranna. Despite the changes, she still remembers hating this man. This man killed her adopted father. This man forced her to walk a bloody path. This man painted the Swordcoast red with blood in his mad quest for power. She remembers all the pain he had caused not only to her but to everyone she cared for. The memories are still fresh. She hated this man. But now? She’s not so sure anymore, especially after everything that’s happened. To her surprise, she finds herself trusting this man to some degree.

“So, what troubles you?” Sarevok asks in a more serious tone. She looks up at him. It’s very unlike Sarevok to pose this question to anyone. Is it because of – she looks away as she feels her cheeks redden.

“Nothing, just some bad dreams caused by recent events. It’s nothing important.” She pulls her cloak in tighter trying not to feel his eyes on her. It’s getting very uncomfortable.

Sarevok sighs, “If you do not wish to tell me, then suit yourself.” He turns and starts to walk away. She wants to call him back, but grits her teeth and refrains from doing so. What transpired between the two of them that particular night – no, she shouldn’t read too much into it, much less talk to him about it. In fact, she should just try to forget everything that happened.

So Lauranna continues to sit on her rock and watch the horizon, deciding not to let her dreams or worries infect her mind even for just a little while. She feels the early morning desert breeze on her face. She’s finally free, free from Bhaal’s influence. She contemplates what her future holds for her, what adventures and mysteries await her in this world. She sits and smile as she watches the sun rise on a new day, freeing herself from doubt and fear. Even if it’s just for a short while. She feels she deserves that much at least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (09/08) I've made a few changes and added some things. Make sure to check if you like.


	2. Chapter 2

The noon sun looks down upon the busy village of Amkethran, baking the earth to a crisp. This is a dry and arid place, but life seems to flourish with the lush desert flowers growing just outside a few of the many earthen dwellings built into the cliff face and a few vegetable gardens here and there. Not too long ago, the villagers were living in fear under the tyrannical rule of Balthazar, a Bhaalspawn of great power and apparently one of the members of The Five. Lauranna and her band of misfits put a stop to that. So now, the villagers happily walk along the small dirt streets, going about their daily business. The fall of Balthazar ushered the return of smugglers and a few traveling merchants, the life blood of a small village in the middle of the desert. Some of the surviving monks from the monastery are walking among the villagers as well, helping where they can. Not all of the monks, it seems, were in league with Balthazar. In truth, before Balthazar came into power, the monks served the village as protectors. Lauranna contemplates on this as she walks through the busy village. She’s currently heading for the village’s only boot maker, Lorius, who lives just outside the smuggler’s cave. He’s not the best, but he’s the only one in the village.

“I hope he’s not in a sour mood today,” she says to herself. Calima, who’s sitting comfortably atop her head, purrs at her, iridescent scales shining under the desert sun. She’s been to the boot maker yesterday to place an order for traveling boots. Lorius is a bitter and unpleasant old man who looks at any stranger with suspicion in his one good eye. When she paid a visit yesterday, he tried to shoo her away with a gnarled old stick and wouldn’t even hear her out. It was only when she finally shouted that she had gold to pay that he stopped hitting her. He just grunted and began to unceremoniously take measurements of her feet, calf, and knees. He didn’t even ask permission or offer her a seat! He works fast though, sending word this morning that he’s done.

She already visited the various merchants that are currently staying in the small village yesterday morning before she paid Lorius a visit, but none of them, oddly enough, were selling boots. All of the current merchants that are passing by Amkethran as of now trade food or crafting materials such as ores or leathers. They also trade in more unpleasant goods, such as dangerous poisons, illegal materials, some artifact from a long lost empire (or so they claim). They mostly trade those with the smugglers as fee for smuggling their other goods to this city or that and avoid any trade tariffs. There are the smugglers, but she will never in a million years go to them for boots. She’d rather go barefoot across the entire desert, even all the way back to Candlekeep, than deal with that pompous, forked tongued bastard Saemon Havarian. He’s still acting all smug and important ever since it was known that he played a small part (emphasis on small) in Balthazar’s fall. She secretly is thankful though that he was where he was at that time, but she will never admit it to his face. Not even if she’s paid the entire treasure horde of an ancient red wyrm. So she has no other choice but to deal with that irritable old man Lorius.

“Dari! Dari! Look, it’s her! Isn’t she beautiful?” squeals a little girl as Lauranna passes by a dwelling.

“What? She ain’t nothin special, just another pointy-eared elf” a boy says in reply with an obvious blush on his face. “I could’ve taken on Balthazar and his evil minions all by myself!” he says haughtily. The boy is obviously the little girl’s older brother by the looks of him.

“Shush, you! She’ll hear you! Ma said she’s a mighty sorceress. She said she saw her eyes glow when she blew up the bad men. Boom! If you don’t shush, she’ll turn you into a toad, she will! Or blow you up too! Boom!”

“She won’t do that, you ninny! Ma also said she’s nice. She even helped big sis Asana when those bad men were about to hurt her.”

“Yeah, she is nice isn’t she? I’m gonna be just like her when I grow up. I’ll go adventuring and stop bad men from doing bad things,” the girl sighs while looking at Lauranna with a dreamy expression on her face.

“You can’t turn into a pointy-eared elf when you grow up, you ninny! And your hair ain’t even yellow!” replies the boy as he slaps his sister on the back of the head.

“Ma! Dari hit me again!” the girl cries as she runs into their house. By then, Lauranna can no longer hear what happens next since she’s too far away. She can’t help but smile a little. She isn’t being smug or anything. It just felt nice knowing that someone looks up to you and admires you for the good things you did. It’s nice to know that she did well. Especially since her past had been mired with blood and death ever since she left Candlekeep.

It’s been so long. She misses Candlekeep. She misses the smell of old tomes, the silence and relative peace. Above all, she misses the view of the sea atop one of the towers of the keep. She could still remember sneaking one of the older story books from the library and reading it atop one of the towers long after the sun has set, occasionally looking at the great sea. Gorion would then scold her for reading with only one candle lit and for staying up late. Sadness washes over her. Remembering her foster father, his stern but kind demeanor, brought up an old hurt. She misses Gorion. It surprises her a little. She should be over his death by now.

“Guess not,” she says to herself. Calima purrs and hops down to her shoulder and begins to snuggle her cheeks. She senses her mistress’ mood. “I’ll be fine, Calima. Just remembering someone.” But the miniature dragon isn’t satisfied and continues to purr and rub her head on her mistress’ cheek trying to sooth her. Remembering Gorion brought up other memories as well.

Khalid, Jaheira’s husband, he died due to brutal tortures in the hands of Jon Irenicus. Khalid was timid, but he was a steadfast friend. He never faltered even in the face of great danger. He was kind and always ready to lend a hand.

Dynaheir, a witch of Rashemen and a true friend. She never did reveal her true purpose in travelling far from her homeland with Minsc in tow, but it didn’t matter. She was a loyal friend to the very end. She died in a magical duel with Jon Irenicus, trying to free them all from his dungeon underneath Athkatla. Her death did not only affect her, it affected Minsc, furthering his descent into madness.

Ajantis, a stalwart knight of the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart, died by her own hands due to an elaborate ruse orchestrated by a petty red dragon. Ajantis may have been short-sighted and a little hotheaded, but deep inside he was kind and passionate. He would lay down his life if it meant saving a friend.

Yoshimo, bounty hunter extraordinaire, always quick with his blade and wit. He was unwittingly put under a geas by Irenicus and was forced to fight her despite his loyalties. He died in her arms, begging Ilmater to save his soul.

Anomen – that memory bites the deepest and hurt the most. _“I love you.”_ His last words as he charged Jon Irenicus and struck a staggering blow just before a death spell exploded enveloping both of them in necrotic energies. Anomen died, Jon was weakened. This sacrifice gave Lauranna the opening she needed to finally take down the madman. The memory is still vivid in her mind. It was in hell where the final confrontation with Jon took place. Or rather a version of hell, a pocket dimension that served as sanctuary to the former God of Murder, Bhaal. The feeling of hopelessness as Jon Irenicus, The Exiled One, prepared one final spell to wipe them out. The sound of her breaking heart as it dawned on her that Anomen would never waken again, that memory is forever burned into her heart and soul.

“Hey!” She hears a high-pitched voice say seconds before she feels a body slam into her from behind. She hears Calima hiss in protest and before she knows it, she’s on the ground face first on the dirt street. The fall knocks the breath from her lungs. She feels fingers on her ribs. She starts to panic.

“Imoen, are you crazy?!” she yelps as she’s trying to prevent Imoen from tickling her right there and then on the ground in full view of onlookers.

“Well, you were brooding so I decided to snap you back to reality.” Imoen giggles. It’s during these times that Lauranna wishes she’s a half-orc instead of an elf. If she was, she could have stopped Imoen easily thereby preventing this mortifying experience from ever happening. Curses!

“Stop! Everyone’s looking!” Lauranna hisses as she tries to stifle a laugh. She’s fighting a losing battle.

“I’ll stop if you promise me not to brood.”

“All right! All right! I won’t brood anymore!”

“Good.” Imoen stops her relentless assault and gets up. She dusts herself for a moment and offers a hand to her, grinning. Lauranna got up and saw exactly how many people stopped to look curiously at the two women rolling around in the dirt. She feels her face grow violent crimson. She scowls at Imoen’s offered hand. “Ah! I said no brooding.”

“I’m not brooding. I’m scowling.”

“Same thing. Now, are you gonna get up or are you gonna continue sitting there on the dirt like an idiot?” She has no choice but to take Imoen’s offered hand. She pulls herself up with as much dignity and grace as she can muster and proceeds to dust herself. She sees Calima sitting on her hind legs just a few feet from Imoen and her, looking at them both curiously.

“Some help you are.” she snaps to the fairy dragon. Calima whines and hangs her head in remorse.

“Aww, don’t scold her. She wouldn’t have been of any help anyways.” Imoen giggles as she picks up Calima and cradles her in her arms. Lauranna starts to walk in the direction of Lorius’ shop trying to keep her back as straight as possible and maintain a façade of dignity despite her crimson cheeks. She hears Imoen start to walk next to her. She pointedly ignores her. “Aww, come now. Don’t be like that,” Imoen says with a sly grin on her face.

“That was embarrassing, Imoen. Besides, you shouldn’t be tackling people on the streets with your injuries.”

“Oh, I’ll be fine. Jaheira already healed most of my injuries. Besides, like I said, you were brooding. You shouldn’t be brooding. You should be shouting your joy to the heavens!” Imoen says as she lifts her arms to the sky, adopting a face filled with joy and euphoria. Calima yelps in surprise and grabs onto Imoen’s arm as best as she can.

She looks Imoen up and down. Jaheira is a miracle worker. “And why, pray tell, would I do that?” she asks flatly.

“Because you are now free…free to choose whatever path you wish to take. If you wish to be a baker, well, you could start right now and set up shop here in this quaint little village in the middle of a god forsaken desert. No one can tell you otherwise.” She still has that stupid look on her face. “I know I am. Happy that is.”

“I am happy!”

Imoen looks at her flatly. “Really?”

“I was just thinking about some things.”

Imoen looks at her with knowing eyes. “You must not dwell on them. They wouldn’t want that. They would want you to be happy and enjoy this moment. This is a gift, our second chance. Remember?”

“I know.”

“Do you really?”

Lauranna sighs. “I am happy, Imoen, very happy. It’s just hard thinking about the people we’ve lost along the way. But let me tell you later. We’re almost at the boot maker’s shop. I’ll need all of my patience and diplomatic skills there.”

“Okay, if you say so. You’re the boss.” She cradles Calima in her arms again and starts to scratch her neck and coo soothingly to her. “Don’t let her dampen your mood, okay? Hush now.” Calima purrs appreciatively.

* * *

 

Jaheira kneels with eyes close and one hand on the dry ground. She breaths in the dry desert air deeply, concentrating on her work. Where is it? It should be there. It’s always harder in an arid landscape to look for that spark of life. Harder, but not impossible. There’s always life even in the harshest environment. Life always finds a way. She looks deeper. There! It’s so faint, small, like a single leaf floating in a vast lake. Now all she needs to do is coax it, guide it. Never control. You can never truly control nature. You can guide it in the direction you want, but never force it to do what you want. She learned that the hard way. The spark quivers for a moment. She touches it as gently as she would touch a newborn. Suddenly, the spark starts to expand and spread. She can’t really describe it any more than that. In her mind’s eye, the spark just “grew.” It expands just enough to cover the small vegetable garden owned by one of the locals in Amkethran. She gets up and surveys her work. The vegetables actually look healthier. Their color more vibrant and lush compared from before where most were just wilted, sorry little things. It isn’t much really, but it’ll help.

“Now, don’t forget to water them three times a day. You have to keep the soil moist enough for the plants and to keep them from drying out quickly in this desert heat.”

“Yes, mistress. Thank you, mistress” replies the woman tearfully as she holds Jaheira’s hand with both of hers.

“You are welcome.”

With that, Jaheira walks on. This would be the fifth dwelling she has visited that has a small herb garden or a vegetable patch. She’s getting exhausted. At first, she tried hard not to interfere. The village was thriving long before they arrived here, but Jaheira just couldn’t look away. She never could. Her masters called her impulsive and bullheaded. Well, she just couldn’t stand by and watch when she could take action. She also dislikes the fact that these poor people are greatly dependent on the smugglers and those unscrupulous merchants that come by seeking to do business with the smugglers. Yesterday, she almost punched a particularly greasy looking merchant when he tried to sell her a druidic idol from a supposed ancient elven kingdom. The nerve of that man! Did he think he could con her like some back country girl still wide-eyed and innocent? Instead, Jaheira snatched the idol from the merchant’s hand and shattered it on the ground. She then proceeded to give the merchant an earful on tricking customers and doing unsavory business. By the end, the merchant was bowing and was visibly shaking in fear from the ordeal. The smugglers are another matter. She wants nothing more than to set them strait, but after what Saemon did for their group, she decided to let them be as payback for the assistance. She grudgingly admits though that the smugglers are sort of fair in their dealings. And they actually help the villagers in a way by trading their services not only for gold but for foodstuff and other supplies the villagers might need.

But Jaheira is not about trying to help every villager in this place. That’s just happenstance. She’s really out looking for a merchant who plans to leave Amkethran soon. She’s been trying to corner Lauranna and talk to her concerning their plans, but to no avail. Lauranna seems intent on avoiding her for some reason. She probably knows what Jaheira wants to talk about but do not have an answer yet. Most probably still waiting on information. Sometimes Jaheira detests the fact that the girl learned too well from Gorion. All that planning and waiting. Cunning and strategy is well and good, but sometimes immediate action is needed. The girl needs to make a decision soon. They can’t stay in Amkethran for too long. They need to leave Tethyr altogether. They are still fugitives after all, unjustly blamed for the destruction of Saradush. Jaheira also needs to make contact with the Harpers in order to give a full report on recent events. That is, after all, why she was assigned to watch Lauranna in the first place. The world needs to know that the girl is not to blame for the destructions and mass murders in the south, that she was actually trying to stop it, and succeeded. So Jaheira decided to take matters into her own hands. She needs to find a merchant that’s going to Amn. Amn seems the logical choice given the distance and Harper presence, but Jaheira is a little apprehensive in returning to Amn. That is where she lost her husband, Khalid. Foolish. It’s unreasonable to think negatively of a place just because she lost someone there. Besides, Jaheira made a silent promise to Khalid and herself that she would not let his death prevent her from doing her duty, both for the Harpers and her friends. She needs to be strong, mind, body and soul. Her work is not yet done. She can mourn later.

She hears a familiar laugh. Off in the distance, near the smuggler’s cave, she sees Lauranna and Imoen coming out of the boot maker’s shop. Lauranna grimacing visibly as if having eaten something bitter and Imoen laughing uproariously. She starts toward their direction before they get any further. Jaheira can’t help but reflect on those two. Both were so young when Jaheira first met them. She can remember it like it was yesterday. They looked miserable. They were soaked to the bone. Lauranna had mud all over her once fine dress. Imoen had tears and gashes on her clothes. Both had little of what could be called as their travelling equipment. Both wide-eyed and innocent. Well, that innocence is gone now after what they’ve been through. Both have been subjected to the horrors of reality. Too soon in Jaheira’s opinion. Imoen might put on airs, but whenever she thinks no one’s looking, Jaheira could see this haunted and sad look on her face. It’s faint, but still there. She hides it all with a mask of childlike innocence, but it belies a more cunning mind and perceptive nature. Lauranna on the other hand has become more confident. She used to be a timid youth unsure of herself. After having been thrusted into a world of intrigue and horror, she’s grown into who she is today. Most would have broken under the pressure she’s been through, but not Lauranna. She learned and adapted in her own way. She’s become more confident and charismatic, using both her wit and beauty to talk or coerce her way out of most dangers. Failing that, her natural affinity to magic comes into play. It’s then that you see her true potential. Raw, unbridled magical energies being weaved skillfully, like a master weaver creating an intricate tapestry. She has been through so much for someone so young, and Jaheira has no doubt that more will come. She knows the girl is walking a path of a nomad, a true adventurer at heart.

As she gets closer, Jaheira starts to hear the conversation between the two. “What happened to that silver tongue of yours? I can distinctly remember you smoothly talking information out of an angry red dragon without even batting an eyelash!”

“I’d rather deal with the dragon again than that old man. He’s impossible to reason with!”

“Well, you could still consider becoming a baker. Maybe he’ll soften up if you give him a taste of your buns. Eh? Eh?” Imoen said with a wicked smile.

“You’re an idiot.” Lauranna says with an obvious disgust on her face. “He may be impossible, but at least he did a good job. The boots are actually comfortable to walk in. Looks sturdy. Pretty too, in a rustic kind of way.” Lauranna says as she inspects her new traveling boots thoroughly.

“Oh hi, Jaheira! Have you been manhandling those merchants again? Are we to expect a trail of battered and bruised merchants all the way back to the inn?” Imoen greets Jaheira in a cheerful manner.

She looks at Imoen flatly. “No, I’ve been looking for a merchant that will be leaving Amkethran soon. We need to leave this place as soon as possible.”

“Really? What’s the hurry? I think Lauranna wants to stay a bit longer so she can work her magic on that leathery boot maker, maybe get a discount on her boots.”

“This is serious, Imoen. Or have you forgotten? We’re wanted fugitives. The Queen of Tethyr has ordered our arrest. For all we know she could have sent another batch of bounty hunters here to capture us or kill us. We need a plan.”

“There’s an army waiting for us at the oasis.” Lauranna says in a calm and hushed tones, barely audible.

Jaheira’s stunned. She stares at Lauranna for a few seconds before replying, looking around making sure no one else is listening in. “What? How did you know that? Who told you? Did one of the merchants say anything?”

“The traveling merchants, I thought it was weird they didn’t sell arms or armor. Not even a single boot. No spell scrolls. No potions. Just a few trinkets here and there, mostly food and supplies villagers would need day in and day out. The army bought every single weapon or armor. Or at least those that the merchants weren’t able to hide. They wouldn’t (or they were ordered not to) buy all the foodstuff. It risks raising our suspicion. It was already risky buying all the arms and armor.”

“Why didn’t the merchants say anything?” Imoen asks, disbelief clear in her voice.

“Whoever is leading the army probably paid them to keep silent. Or threatened. Plus, if I’m right, the merchants would’ve made a fortune selling any arms or armor to the army and are more than happy to keep their mouths shut out of gratitude or for an extra fee.” Lauranna says as she gently scratches her familiars hide.

“By the horns of Sylvanus!” Jaheira cursed in frustration. “What do we do now? There’s no way to cross the desert without stopping by that oasis. We’ll die if we make the attempt!”

Imoen groans. “Ugh, another army, huh? Sometimes it’s bad to be famous. This is your fault, Lauranna. You’re too famous for your own good.”

“Hey, you’re famous too. I heard a few of the boys here in the village are planning on asking your hand in marriage.”

“Bleh! Well, you’re more famous because you’re the leader.”

“Will the two of you concentrate? This is a big problem and we need to think of a way to get past it.”

“I already have a plan. I’m just waiting on critical information. He should be back by sundown. For now, let’s get back to the inn. I’m hungry and thirsty.” Lauranna starts to walk back to the inn and Jaheira has no choice but to follow. Imoen jogs after them, deep in her own thoughts. She looks troubled.

“You could have told us.” Jaheira said with a little annoyance.

“Well, I wasn’t sure yet. It was just a suspicion. I also didn’t want anybody to know that we already know.”

“You’re getting too clever for your own good. You’re so much like him. Anyway, we need to talk with the others. They’ll want to know.” Jaheira contemplates more on Lauranna’s growth while walking back to the inn. It was remarkable, she admits.


	3. Chapter 3

 A sandstorm rages in Amkethran. The sound of the howling wind is chillingly like a hundred souls moaning in agony. It’s night. Lauranna and her companions are currently in the inn’s only private lounge. Like most of the rooms, this one is separated from the main building, an odd design for an inn. When she first came to the village, she would have never thought this was the inn if the villagers hadn’t pointed it to her directly. It’s like the innkeeper decided to buy the neighboring houses to add more available rooms to the original building.

The current room they’re in is on the second terrace, a couple of meters off from the main building. The room is small, and circular, and built about a meter from the cliff face. It’s made of sandstone and clay like the rest of the village dwellings. The furnishings, a medium sized rectangular table and six chairs all made of aged wood. The chairs, currently occupied by her companions except one, are padded with animal fur to provide small comfort. The room’s small fireplace currently contains a blazing fire in order to protect from the desert’s chilly night air and provide light.

Lauranna is currently sitting by one of the room’s two windows, the one nearest the door, occasionally peeking out the shutters. Jaheira is by the fireplace opposite the door, reading a book. Imoen is playing with Calima and Boo on one side of the table at the center of the room. Minsc is on the other side with a thunderous look on his face, veins on his temple pulsating in rhythm to the gritting of his teeth. Sarevok is near the door, opposite her, sharpening his great sword, hands moving methodically. She already told them of her suspicions. She’s just waiting on information in order to finalize her plans.

Lauranna peeks out the window shutters again. This sandstorm could be an advantage. It would slow down the army to a halt, giving her time to plan and move. Where is he? He should have been here hours ago. Did he get caught? Did he get lost in this sandstorm? She needs to know who is leading that army, what the army consists of, and how far they are from Amkethran if they have decided to move. She needs more information.

“No!”

Ah, the outburst she’s been expecting has finally come.

Minsc slams the table with his fist. “We are heroes of justice! We kicked evil on the butt and saved the world! We are not the villains! Minsc is not the villain in this epic tale!” Calima yelps in alarm and hops off the table into Imoen’s lap. Lauranna could also distinctly hear Boo squeak and scamper away, trying to avoid becoming a casualty of his master’s violent outburst.

“Minsc, calm yourself. Screaming the obvious and whining will not help us any.” Jaheira calmly says without taking her eyes from her book.

“But – “

“Yeah, Minsc,” Imoen chimes in, “Nor is breaking any of the furniture here.” Minsc, red faced, begins to roar and picks up the table in an attempt to smash it to pieces. Imoen pushes herself away from the table in alarm. Lauranna turns to Minsc and looks at him intently.

“Minsc, stop.” she says calmly. Minsc looks at her, fury in his eyes. “Smashing that table to pieces will not make us into heroes of legend. It will only anger the innkeeper.”

Minsc puts the table back in place, pulls up his chair, and sits back down with an obvious effort. “Very well, you make a good point. Breaking a table is not a heroic thing to do.” Lauranna could hear his teeth gritting with the effort of trying to contain his anger.

With that, she goes back to contemplating possible scenarios and coming up with ways to deal with them, occasionally peeking out the window shutter. Everyone else goes back to whatever they were doing before Minsc’s outburst. Except for Sarevok. He never took his eyes off his work during the outburst. He never said anything. He never even batted an eyelash. So focused.

They have already discussed the situation earlier and they have all agreed that she needed more information. She has led them this far. She will not fail them now. Where is he?

A slam on the door, someone is outside. Sarevok gets up, putting his sword aside. Everyone else looks up from what they were doing. Sarevok opens the door a crack to see who it is. He turns to the group and says, “He’s here.”

A tall figure carrying a small pack comes into the room. He’s covered in a dusty hooded cloak, which he immediately takes off upon entering and drops it to the floor next to the table along with his pack. The lower part of his head is covered with a scarf in order to better protect from the sandstorm, which he takes off as well to go where his other things are. Carras is a tall, well-muscled, dark skinned fellow. He looks to be in his late thirties. He has short brown hair and green calculating eyes. He’s kind of handsome, in a rugged, unkempt kind of way. Currently though, he looks worn and tired. He’s covered in sand and dust despite the protection of a large cloak. Saemon’s second in command looks around the room and at each of its current occupants.

Lauranna gets up from her chair, puts one hand on her hips, and looks at Carras with a bit of annoyance. “To say that you’re late is a massive understatement. What happened? Did you have tea with the army first?”

“I apologize. There was a sandstorm in my way.” He looks at her flatly. He then begins to dust himself.

“Well?” Lauranna asks impatiently.

“If you could just give me a moment, princess, I would be truly grateful. It was not easy going through this sandstorm in the middle of the night.” He says to her in a flat voice as he takes off his leather armor and shakes sand from it. He pulls up a vacant chair and drops himself on it. “Water?”

Imoen stands and walks off to the side of the room. She picks up one of two jugs of water from the floor along with a cup that she sat aside earlier in preparation for Minsc’s inevitable outburst upon hearing the news. “Here.”

“Thank you.” Carras takes the jug of water, giving Imoen a rather lewd smile and a wink at the same time. Imoen rolls her eyes as she walks to the side of the room. Carras takes the jug and drinks from it directly, ignoring the cup.

Jaheira is still sitting by the fireplace, patiently waiting on Carras to speak. Imoen leans on the wall, takes her knife from her belt, and begins to flip it on one hand. Sarevok already went back to what he was doing before, but it’s obvious he’s paying close attention to Carras as he’s doing it. Minsc looks like he’s ready to explode again, but keeps it together with effort.

Lauranna walks back to her chair. She starts to do the breathing exercise Gorion taught her a long time ago when he started to train her in the use of her magical abilities. This has always helped in clearing her mind and achieving calm, a good state to plan in. “Did anyone see you when you came into the village?”

Carras puts down the jug and looks at her quizzically. “Why would anyone be up and about in this storm? No. No one saw me. And yes, I’m sure.”

“Well, there’s a chance Saemon put up sentries.” Imoen chimes in. She doesn’t trust him. She’s already made that clear a while ago when Lauranna revealed who she was waiting for.

“No, he wouldn’t. He probably has everybody packing everything that needs to be carried if escape is required.”

“Probably.” Jaheira looks at Carras with suspicion.

Carras ignores her and moves on. “In any case, I need to be brief. Saemon is also waiting for my return with the information. You’re right. There is an army. I didn’t get a close enough look though, on account that there are wizards that could have detected me with the wards they have set up. But I did get close enough to get a rough estimation on their numbers. Looks like they have about a hundred regulars of the royal army, two companies of archers, ten wizards, about five priests, and about a hundred mercenaries. The mercenaries, by the way, looks to be seasoned adventurers. As for who is leading this army, I didn’t see him or her. The odd thing though is that they don’t seem to be planning on moving any time soon. Yes, they’ve sent out scouts, but before I left, they were still very much settled in. I think they’re waiting. They know the oasis is the most direct and safest route out of the desert. Any other route would be too dangerous.”

Lauranna took this all in and began to adjust her plans. “But there are other routes?”

Carras takes out a map of Tethyr from his pack which includes the surrounding areas and places it on the table. The rest of the group moves in closer to look at the map, except for Sarevok who’s still sharpening his sword. “There are. It’s not known because only we smugglers know of it. We keep that secret to our graves, but for you, I’ll make an exception.” He looks at Imoen again and wink at her. “I would say there are two other routes, but really there are five. The other three are just too dangerous and they all lead to Calimshan.”

“We are not traveling with you and Saemon.” Jaheira interjected before the idea could be voiced out.

“I didn’t say you would be. I know you do not trust our leader. There are two routes that are not too dangerous compared to the other three that leads to Calimshan. One route goes north. It’s quite a long one but it will take you to Riatavin. It’s a little risky considering you might run into one of the many armies currently involved in the civil war. I also do not have much information on Riatavin currently. It could be a smoking pile of ash for all I know. That is where you wish to go, right? Amn?”

Lauranna taps her chin in thought. “And the other route?”

“It will be the one Saemon and the rest of us are taking, due east. It leads to a small town of Mintar. We have a hideout there.”

Jaheira looks at Carras with suspicion. “And you say these are our only options? How do we know you haven’t talked to whoever is leading that army and made some sort of deal on behalf of Saemon? How do we know there isn’t any trap waiting for us on the route to Riatavin?”

Carras looks at Jaheira intently. “I am not Saemon. I do not make a habit of betraying those that saved my life in the past. If you don’t trust me, then you are more than free to find your own path through the desert.”

Jaheira growls. “I – “

“What about the routes that lead to Calimshan?” Lauranna calmly asks.

Carras looks at her. “Those paths are dangerous this time of year. Purple worms are breeding and there’s been sightings of a sunwyrm in the area. It can be done though. I do have someone who can and is insane enough to navigate those sands this time of the year and take you to Calimshan, if that is what you wish. When you get to Calimshan, it’s easy enough to find an airship or a water vessel to take you to Amn safely. It will take longer though and like I said, the route you will be taking through the desert is a lot more dangerous.”

Lauranna reviews her choices for a moment. The others waiting for her to decide. All the choices present danger in one form or another, but ultimately leads to the same destination. The only real choice she needs to make is which danger she thinks they can handle, this includes all the probable dangers her mind could come up with in each of the routes to Amn. She looks up at her companions. All of them are already fit enough to travel, but it’s only been days since their climactic fight in the abyss. They may be well enough to travel, but some injuries take time to heal.

Carras looks at her. “Well? I need to hear your decision now. Like I said, I need to get back to Saemon soon.”

“We’re taking the route north to Riatavin.” Imoen sighs in relief in hearing this. She didn’t realize she’s been holding her breath. “If we do encounter one of the armies involved in the civil war, it’s easier to deal with them than a territorial sunwyrm.”

Carras puts his hands together. “It’s decided then. I’ll be making the necessary arrangements. I’ll be in contact with you early tomorrow with the details. And don’t worry, I will say nothing to Saemon about all of this. In fact, if he asks, I’ll tell him that you’ll be staying for a while to recover your strength before moving on. That way, if he does decide to sell you out to the army waiting at the oasis, he’ll be giving them the wrong information.” He picks up his belongings and turns to leave but is stopped by Sarevok with a massive hand to his chest.

“If you betray us, thief, know that I have plenty of ways to track you and your master down and even more ways to kill you slowly and painfully. Do I make myself clear?”

Carras looks at Sarevok with steady eyes. “Crystal.”

With that, he let the smuggler go. Carras went out into the raging sandstorm. Jaheira turns to Lauranna with a worried look on her face. “Are you sure we can trust him? I do not trust anyone associated with that snake Saemon.”

Lauranna is thoughtful but answers confidently. “We can trust him. We actually had a long chat yesterday when I started to have my suspicion about the merchants and I’ve gotten to know him quite well. And if he does end up betraying us, don’t worry. I already planned for that possibility as well.” Lauranna noticed that Sarevok cracked a small smile. Nobody seems to have noticed. What is that man thinking?

Jaheira sighs in defeat. “Very well, we have trusted your leadership this far. There’s no reason to stop now. We have best turn in early. We need to get up early tomorrow to prepare for the journey. Come along, Imoen. We still need to continue your healing session.”

Imoen groans. “Really, Jaheira, I’m fine. You already healed the worst of my injuries. I’ll make do with the rest. Besides, you need your strength if we are to travel tomorrow. I mean, after a day of helping those villagers and beating up merchants, I’m sure you’re exhausted.”

Jaheira looks at Imoen flatly. “Suit yourself then. But don’t come crying to me when your back aches while we’re traveling through the desert.”

“Don’t worry,” Imeon went back to her cheerful self again, “If I feel like falling over, I’ll just climb on Minsc’s back and let him carry me the rest of the way. Right, Minsc?”

Minsc doesn’t reply. He remains silent and forlorn, cradling and petting his hamster Boo who seems to sense his master’s mood and is chattering in what Lauranna would imagine to be in a consoling tone. Lauranna approaches the large ranger and puts her hand on his massive shoulder. “Minsc – “

“No. It is all right. You do not need to comfort Minsc. Minsc understands. Boo already explained it to Minsc. Even good people make mistake. It is not their fault that they think we are evil. They were not there when we kicked evil’s massive behind and dispensed justice for all. And don’t worry, Imoen. Minsc and Boo will carry you if your injuries prove to be too severe.” Boo squeaks in agreement.

Lauranna smiles. Despite his apparent insanity, Minsc does possess a degree of wisdom. “Well, like Jaheira said, let us turn in. We have an early start tomorrow.”

With that, they gather their cloaks and leave the private lounge. They covered up tightly despite the fact that their rooms are only a short walk away. Minsc and Sarevok went off to the room they shared and Jaheira to her own. Imoen decided she wants to bunk in with Lauranna for the night since she said she no longer need one of Jaheira’s strict, almost tyrannical, healing sessions. Lauranna contemplated on taking a bath first before turning in. She and Imoen could share a bath together and talk about things, like they used to when they were still in Candlekeep. They haven’t done that in a long time. She missed those.

* * *

 

Darkness. She’s floating in nothingness, cold and empty. She doesn’t even know which way is up or down. Then she realizes she doesn’t feel anything, like she’s formless. She tries to look at her hands, but nothing. Despite this, she feels…at peace.

She hears something. Is that a child crying? She tries to look about, but have no idea how. She doesn’t have a head. Suddenly, she sees something, a small figure. She tries to reach for it with imaginary hands. Suddenly, the figure is right in front of her. It’s a little girl with long red hair spilling over her back down to her knees. The girl has her back to her. She’s crying. Or…is that laughter? She doesn’t know. The girl stops abruptly.

“You’re weak.” The girl’s voice sounded familiar, like a dream long forgotten. There is also warmth in her voice, oddly enough. “You run when you can fight. You talk and reason when you can burn them to a crisp with just a snap of your fingers. You’re weak.” The words bit deep despite the fact that it was said not in a tone of admonishment but consoling.

“I – “

“See? You could strike me down right here, right now. But no, you would rather talk. You would rather smile and appeal to their reason. You’re scared of your own power. And I’m not talking about Bhaal’s essence.” The girl scoffs. “We have never needed that. Good that you got rid of it. It was in the way. Now, that we’re alone, I could show you. Show you how powerful we really are. All you need to do is embrace me. Let me be who we need to be.” The warmth in the girl’s voice starts to unnerve her.

“I’m tired of fighting. I do not want to anymore. I just – “

The girl falls to her knees and covers her ears. She’s quivering in fear. Or is it anger? With all warmth gone, she screams maniacally. “You lie! Stop it! Stop it! You love it! We love watching as blood flows out! You love how life drains out of their eyes as we stand and watch! To plunge a dagger into their gut and feel the blood flow on our hand, that sweet, sweet, sticky, delicious blood! WE FUCKING LOVE ALL OF IT! We feel more alive when you kill! DO NOT LIE TO US!”

“Please. It’s over. You don’t need to fight anymore.” She moves in closer and tries to hug the child, but recoils. The child starts to cry again. Or is she laughing?

“There will always be conflict. We are not naive. We will show you. Soon.”

The child suddenly turns around and grabs her neck with one hand. She has no face! No eyes, no nose, no mouth!

“Soon.” The girl starts to laugh (or cry) as she slowly clenches her hand, crushing her throat. Everything starts to go black. Nothing…peace…

* * *

 

Lauranna opens her eyes. It’s still dark. No sound. It seems the storm has finally stopped. A red haired girl…who was that? She remembers only a small fraction of her dream. Someone was crying. Or were they laughing? The memory starts to fade. Her throat feels sore. That’s weird. She should have Jaheira take a look at it. It wouldn’t do to have a sore throat when travelling through a desert. She hears a moan beside her.

“No! Stop! Not there! It tickles.” Imoen starts to giggle in her sleep.

Lauranna turns on her side and props her head on her hand. What in the world is she dreaming about? Then Carras pops into her mind. “Oh my, this could be juicy. Go on talk some more.” She whispers.

Imoen mumbles something incoherent. Nothing else. Lauranna lies back down disappointed. Any moment now Jaheira would come bursting through the door, admonishing them for not waking up early enough. Imoen and her had slept late. They stayed up all night talking about where they would go next once all of this nonsense is over. Imoen had so many suggestions and the excitement in her eyes was infectious. She feels sad, sad that she got Imoen’s hopes up. She feels bad lying like this, especially to her. But she has no choice. She has to do what she has to do and she can’t, in good conscience, involve Imoen any further.

Lauranna gets up and starts to dress herself for the rough road ahead. She put on her new boots and can’t help but admire it again. Lorius did do a good job, despite having a sour attitude. It feels comfortable and it looks sturdy.

And as expected, Jaheira barges in the room. She looks at Lauranna and nods in approval. She looks at Imoen still mumbling in her sleep. Jaheira’s brow starts to plunge. Bad sign. She quickly gets out of the way of the inevitable outburst and can’t help but giggle. This is good revenge for tackling her in full view of onlookers.


	4. Chapter 4

The small village of Amkethran bustles with activity. The villagers are all busy cleaning up after the sandstorm that hit the village early last night. The monks are up and about as well, offering what help they can. They seem to be particularly insistent in offering help. Probably making up for what their former brethren did not too long ago, perhaps restore a semblance of trust with the villagers. For the part of the villagers, it’s not easy. Balthazaar was a tyrant, despite his noble goal. He bled the village dry of resources and allowed mercenaries to run roughshod of the entire village. Trust is not easily repaired once broken.

The villagers are not the only ones up and about. The smugglers are probably the ones that displayed the most activity. It’s clear they will be leaving soon. Some are packing essential things for the journey, like tents, sleeping pallets, a few travelling furniture, and cooking equipment. Others are busy buying or trading food and supplies from the villagers and merchants. Others are readying pack animals for the journey.

All of this caused quite a stir among the villagers. Whispers could be heard of the cause of the smugglers’ hasty departure, one more foreboding than the last. Fear is spreading. The smugglers are the village’s lifeblood. All know that the only reason any merchant would pass through Amkethran is because of the smugglers and the “services” they provide. Without the smugglers, merchants will cease to come and the village will most likely die. Some of the merchants are already beginning to make preparations to leave. The monks are doing their best to alleviate the villagers’ concerns, but not much can be done it seems. The smugglers will not even say why they’re leaving.

Jaheira, of course, know the reason all too well. The Tethyrian royal army and a hundred or so seasoned adventurers turned mercenary are currently entrenched in the oasis deep in the desert. It’s best not to alarm the villagers or the monks by informing them of this. They’ve already been through enough with recent events. Plus, she highly doubts that the villagers are in any danger from the army because their true target is Lauranna and perhaps her companions.

She makes her way along the busy dirt road towards a few of the merchants that are still hawking their wares. She tries to act like she isn’t in any hurry, but it’s hard. Patience is not one of her strong points. She goes over the plan in her head again. Buy a few supplies. Not much, just a few to avoid any suspicion. Imoen would be doing the same thing, but later when Jaheira’s done. Lauranna has already asked a few of the villagers to buy a couple of things for their journey. All of their supplies are to be hidden at the temple to be kept safe by the priest for the time being. Once all of the supplies are ready, one of Carras’ men will then take them and travel to a predetermined location a little ways out in the desert where he is to wait for Jaheira and her companions. They would then leave the village at sundown, one by one in order to avoid notice, and meet up at the location where their equipment and supplies are waiting. From there, they will be traveling north until they reach a place called Path of Daggers, a supposed impassable maze of sharp rocks and sandstone pillars. One of Carras’ trusted men will be waiting for them there to guide them through the maze.

Jaheira hates the roundabout way that they are doing things, but saw the necessity in doing so. She doesn’t trust any of the merchants now. Less so the smugglers. Any of them could betray her and her companions for the right price. She also hates the fact that much of their plan relies heavily on Carras. She doesn’t trust the man despite Lauranna’s assurances. There is too much at stake. She will not allow Lauranna to end up in a dungeon for the rest of her life, or worse, beheaded. After everything they have been through, the girl deserves her freedom. She will do everything in her power to make sure she gets to have a second chance in life, free of dark prophecies. Even if it means she has to sacrifice herself in doing so.

With that in thought, she begins to plan if things turn sideways. Could she perhaps contact the Harpers? The monks do maintain an aviary up in the monastery. Perhaps she could send a message via messenger hawk to Amn or even Calimshan.

She’s so deep in her thoughts that she fails to notice a familiar figure approaching her with a ready smile and a strut that would put any proud rooster to shame. With an elaborate bow, Saemon Havarian greets Jaheira with as much charm as he can muster.

“Greetings, my lady! My, you look positively radiant this fine day. I especially love how your beautiful, silky locks flutter in this dry desert breeze. It puts the most expensive and lavish silks to shame.” The greeting startles Jaheira back to reality.

“Saemon! What in nine hells do you want?! Never startle me like that again or I promise you that oily smile of yours will be missing a few teeth!” Saemon seems genuinely taken aback by her response to his flowery greeting.

“Dear Jaheira, I was merely admiring your beauty for yours is like a lush and vibrant flower that defiantly blooms despite the harshness of the landscape. It is truly inspiring!” Jaheira gives Saemon a flat look.

“Still that forked tongue of yours, Saemon. Your charm and wit is wasted on one that knows you for who you really are, a snake. Now, what do you want? Be quick about it for I have no patience for your blabbering today.” Saemon gives her a wounded look for a moment, which he quickly replaces with what he thinks to be his most winning smile.

“I do love women who go straight to the point.” Jaheira narrows her eyes at him. “Ahem, I merely wish to ask where your fearless leader is. I wish to speak with her before I and my merry band leave Amkethran.” Jaheira tries to hide her alarm. Does he know? She tries to switch the focus of the conversation.

“Why are you leaving? I’m sure you know that the villagers rely on you and your men for their survival. Leaving will mean their doom. Are you truly so heartless, Saemon?” He seems taken aback by the sudden tirade.

“Dear lady, worry not for these good people. I have already made sure that they are well stocked before we leave. And those stocks will surely last them until our eventual return. And yes, I do intend to return eventually. As for why we are leaving, well, my man Carras has informed me of a particularly lucrative endeavor east of here. One that will take the whole crew, it seems, to engage in. You know I am not one to pass by any chance of making a profit, hence the hasty departure. Now, will you tell me where Lauranna is?”

Jaheira looks at Saemon flatly. She doesn’t trust his words. What does he want? Why speak to Lauranna? Did Carras betray them? All of a sudden, an old monk passes by who seems to have overheard their conversation.

“My lady, forgive my interruption,” the monk interrupts in a raspy voice, “but Saemon speaks the truth. We have already come to an agreement early this morning. There are supplies already stocked in the monastery that will last the village for a long time. Plus, we are not as helpless as you think we are. It may be hard, but the villagers can produce food and other supplies for themselves. And with the help you have provided yesterday to some of the villagers, I am sure we can get by until Saemon returns.” Jaheira looks at the monk in disbelief.

“And you trust his word that he’ll return?”

“My lady,” the monk replies in his raspy voice and in tones as if lecturing to a child, “this is not the first time that he and his men have had to leave the village for one reason or another. In the past, when they needed to leave, they made sure that the village was well provided for until their return.”

“Thank you for the vote of confidence, old chap. And rest assured that if ever we are delayed in our return, I have already arranged for one of the merchants to bring in supplies for the entire village.” Saemon claps the frail old monk on the back which almost sends him sprawling on the dirt road. “Now, my lady, if you would be so kind as to direct me to the location where your leader is currently at and I’ll quickly get out of your hair.”

Jaheira looks at Saemon with his oafish smile. Why does he need to talk to Lauranna? She cannot probe deeper without raising his suspicion. In any case, she doesn’t need to hide Lauranna from this foppish oaf. She can handle him and any of his probing.

“She’s at the inn, resting. Do not disturb her. Her injuries have not yet fully healed.”

“Worry not, my dear. This will only take a moment of her time and will not require her any strenuous acts.” He gives her a wink, an elaborate bow, and walks off in the direction of the inn.

Talking to Saemon has put her in a rather foul mood. She’s also worried that Carras has betrayed them and Saemon already knows of their plans, but all she can do now is trust in Lauranna and continue on with the plan. Perhaps sending word to the Harpers will help alleviate her concerns. She will have to visit the monks at the monastery later.

Jaheira walks on, intent on her task. She needs to buy a few particular herbs from the merchants. She’s running out of stock and she can’t constantly rely on her druidic magic. Those she reserves for emergencies. Plus, despite Imoen’s insistence, she still requires a healing session. Her back was almost broken in half in their fight with Amelyssan. Minsc is already out of danger with most of his injuries healed up after their last session yesterday, but she can’t be too careful. That oaf will work his way through any pain without thought for his own wellbeing. Lauranna on the other hand has recovered fairly quickly. Her strength of will has allowed her injuries to heal themselves requiring only little help from Jaheira’s magic. But again, she cannot be too careful.

Sarevok is another matter. His whole body was badly burned and his left arm torn completely off. If it were up to her, she would have left him to die in the abyssal realm. It’s what he deserves for the crimes he has committed. But Lauranna insisted. She’s a little disturbed and confounded why Lauranna would continue to keep him in the group. She grudgingly admits though that he has proven himself quite a number of times already, even saving her life once in the battle with Sendai. But a few good deeds does not make up for his past transgressions.

She has noticed a few changes in Sarevok lately. At the beginning, when he first joined their group, she would often overhear him berating Lauranna about how she should not be wasting her power in defending the helpless but instead use it to elevate herself to godhood, that it was her destiny to do so. Now, he has become a sort of silent watcher or guardian, taking direction without balking or a murderous look at Lauranna. He seems more placid in fact, for lack of a better term.

All this started right after the battle with Abazigal when the draconic bhaalspawn tried to bring down the entire mountain on top of them in a last ditch effort. Jaheira remembers it like it was yesterday. Abazigal unleashed one final spell after Minsc plunged his great sword into his chest. The spell caused a massive earthquake that brought down the whole mountain on top of their heads. Jaheira acted quickly and summoned a greater earth elemental in order to safeguard her and Imoen, who was beside her at the time. On the other side of the massive cavern, she saw Lauranna teleport Minsc out of immediate danger, though she did not know where, and at the same time create an arcane shield that enveloped her and Sarevok. That was the last thing she saw before the entire mountain collapsed on their heads. They managed to escape by ordering the greater earth elemental to tunnel a way out of the rubble. It took a day of searching, but Imoen and her finally found Minsc wandering the area at the bottom of the mountain. Lauranna and Sarevok they found at a small oasis half a day’s travel from the foot of the mountain. Both were strangely silent and there seemed to be an awkwardness between the two. The awkwardness didn’t last though and in a short span of time, it was back to business. But this time, Sarevok was more silent. No more balking at every other decision or giving out murderous looks at anything that moved. He is still imposing and quite threatening to look at, but more thoughtful. She would often catch him deep in thought when camp was set and everyone else asleep. The heated arguments he often would have with Lauranna have also stopped. The only times both would address one another is when Lauranna would ask his opinion on tactics or a plan of attack. She found the whole thing odd. What did it mean? What happened between the two in that small oasis?

Jaheira snaps herself back to reality. She shouldn’t let trivial things distract her. She needs focus now more than ever. Especially if she’s going to deal with these unscrupulous merchants. Plus she has to remember to pass by the monastery later before going back to the inn. If the Harpers can offer her group some assistance then perhaps they can get out of this situation with their skins intact.

 

* * *

 

 

Zakee’s tavern is a lot quieter compared to a few days earlier when the villagers were still celebrating. After the sandstorm that hit the village last night, everyone is rather busy cleaning up and repairing anything that was damaged. The tavern is empty aside from a couple of merchants and the village blacksmith bartering with one of the merchants. Perhaps attempting to get a deal on a few goods that are still left on the merchant’s inventory before the merchant moves on. The serving girl is sitting at the bar conversing with the innkeeper, Zakee Rafeha. Lauranna quietly and discreetly observes the stout innkeeper while sitting at her table situated near one of the windows and close to the door that leads outside. Calima is on the table playing with a small ball of cheese, a leftover of her late breakfast. She initially intended to help with the cleaning up after they were done planning early in the morning with Carras, but Jaheira insisted she stay at the inn and rest, using the excuse that she needs to be seen resting in order to help create the illusion that they were not leaving anytime soon. She gave the same explicit order to both Imoen and Minsc, who right now are in their rooms preparing for the journey ahead. Sometimes, Jaheira’s mothering can be a little annoying. She appreciates it though. She’s already lost count on how many times Jaheira has saved their lives in the past. She’s just a little annoyed because she wanted to do some hard labor. She feels a little restless doing nothing for the past few days. Instead, she’s here in the inn common room, discreetly studying the innkeeper.

In any case, Zakee is a curious one. From the first time Lauranna met the innkeeper, there was always something about him that bothered her. First off, she’s not quite sure where he’s from. He says he’s from Calimshan, but Lauranna has seen other Calishite and she’s not so sure Zakee is one. Something is just a little off. He’s stout like most innkeepers Lauranna knows, but she suspects that bulk is more hardened muscle than fat. He is also unusually tall. Lauranna believes his imposing visage behind the bar might have stopped quite a few fights in his establishment before it ever began. The hair on his head and mustache are as white as snow, but he doesn’t look old really. More worn, but not withered. He has a look of a hardened adventurer or a soldier. Perhaps he has served as a merchant guard once or was an adventurer back in the day. When asked why he left his homeland, he would not say. Only that he wanted to settle down somewhere quiet. Why in the middle of a desert in Tethyr though, Lauranna could not fathom. He has placid eyes, but the lines on his face spoke volumes. They seem to belong on someone that have seen a fair share of tragedy and pain. He hides this fact with a rather cheerful attitude and a warm smile, but Lauranna knows. She is quite familiar with that look since she sees it every morning in the mirror.

There really is no reason to scrutinize the innkeeper. Lauranna does not believe he will betray her and her companions. She’s just curious. There’s just something odd, yet familiar with Zakee. Could she have a little crush on the innkeeper? He is quite handsome, in a mature kind of way. But no, that’s not it really. She’s just letting her mind fixate on something else. Otherwise, she’d go mad overthinking her current situation. Another reason why she wanted to do hard labor, keep her mind off things for a while.

Once again, she thumbs the note on her left hand, one of the many things that plague her mind currently. It was given to her by a monk working the monastery’s aviary, just before she started her late breakfast. The small piece of parchment contains a rather cryptic and intriguing message.

“ _The crows watch eagerly, but the scarecrow keeps them at bay still. Not for long, I believe. The farmer’s return would be appreciated. – M”_

The note is written in a long, flowing script on an aged parchment. If her suspicions are correct, then she has less time than she previously anticipated. But she can’t act with haste now. Otherwise, this could all lead to her being beheaded along with her companions. No, she has to be careful now more than ever. She can’t let the contents of the note and what it means distract her. One problem at a time. In any case, how in nine hells did he find out where she was? She’s thoroughly impressed. She silently offers a prayer to Mystra, asking the goddess of magic to protect and keep him safe for the time being.

Lauranna continues to muse over the innkeeper, trying hard to think why he seems odd to her. The piece of cheese Calima was playing with bounces off the table and lands on the floor. Calima glides down and grabs the cheese and starts to nibble on it. It’s then that she notices a familiar figure walking towards the inn. There is no mistaking that strut or the oafish smile. Lauranna contemplates on leaving the inn through the back door. She decides not to. It’s obvious to her why Saemon would come to the inn. It would be interesting to hear what he has to say. Despite her apparent distaste for Saemon’s company, it probably is prudent to stay and hear him out.

Saemon enters the inn and looks around. Everyone else in the inn looks up from what they’re doing to see who it is that just entered and upon seeing, goes back to what they’re doing. Zakee, though, continues to look at Saemon with a distrustful glare. Saemon does not appear to notice and continues to look around until his eyes find what they are looking for. He gives Lauranna a broad and winning smile and approaches her table with his usual strut. Once at the table where she’s sitting, Saemon bows elaborately and takes her hand. He plants a soft kiss on it and looks up with a smile on his face.

“Greetings, my lady, you are as beautiful now as when the first day I met you. Your hair still shines like spun gold, your skin pristine, and lips luscious.” Lauranna looks at Saemon flatly, his charms falling flat on the floor. Calima looks at Saemon and hisses at him. She jumps and climbs on Lauranna’s shoulder to have a better vantage point should the situation arise where she needs to use her breath weapon on Saemon.

“What do you want, Saemon? If you’re expecting me to bed you, keep dreaming. I have no interest in you whatsoever.” Saemon jerks up from his bow and has the audacity to look wounded.

“My lady, you wound me! I am no lecherous lout expecting rewards of the flesh for showing a lady, such as yourself, proper respect and admiration.” She continues to give Saemon a flat look and waits for him to answer her question. Saemon, admitting defeat finally, takes a chair opposite her and sits down. Calima climbs down onto the table and situates herself between her mistress and Saemon. She continues to watch him warily.

“Well,” he says in a more quiet tone, “I guess my charms won’t work on you lot anymore. I believe Jaheira was ready to bite my head off. Yes, I encountered her while I was looking for you.” Lauranna decides to remain quiet and let Saemon talk. He loves to hear his own voice anyway.

“Ahem. Well, as you might already know, I will be leaving soon, at sundown or earlier if I can help it. I have it going around that you will be staying for a while to recover your strength?” He says it in a curiously oratory fashion, loud enough in fact to be heard outside.

“Yes.”

“Hmm, a sound idea.” He lowers his voice to a whisper. “I had Carras scout the desert after you told him of your suspicions. He came back last night and informed me of an army currently camped in the large oasis that you, no doubt, have passed through travelling towards here.” Lauranna remains calm. Saemon continues on in hushed tones while maintaining that oafish smile of his. He puts his hand gently on hers on the table.

“I think you should leave as soon as possible, perhaps travel with me eastwards. Carras told me of your plan on going north to Amn. I don’t think that’s a good idea. Tethyr is in shambles right now due to the civil war. Crossing the country to Amn will be dangerous, considering that bounty on your head.” With these words, Lauranna starts to jerk her hand away from Saemon’s, but he tightens his grip on her hand.

“Don’t. Keep pretending we’re just having a casual conversation. I do not trust any of the merchants that got through the oasis. Go on, smile.” She looks at Saemon more seriously now. She regains her composure. She quickly goes over plans in her head, thinking of the many contingencies she had planned ahead of time should the worse come to worse, choosing which one would be the best course of action.

“So Carras has been spying on me for you. What do you plan to do now? Sell me out to whoever is leading that army? Perhaps serve me on a silver platter? You do know what I’m capable of, right?” She starts to stare daggers at Saemon and give him a menacing smile. Calima hisses to drive home her meaning. Saemon continues to smile.

“Yes, I had Carras spy on you from the very beginning. And yes, I asked him to go to you with the information first should he find that your suspicions are correct. I also asked him to give you details on all the paths that lead out of the desert. But please believe me, I do not plan on selling you out or set any sort of trap. Not this time. Thank you, by the way, for instructing Carras to inform me of your suspicions. This allowed me time to plan ahead.” Lauranna is a little shocked at the genuine sincerity in Saemon’s voice when he said please. But it could all be a ruse. She decides to go along with Saemon for now. Besides, she’s more than capable of countering any of his plots now. At least she hopes so.

“I’m listening.” Saemon looks at her with relief in his eyes. Another shock.

“Good. I believe that the safest and quickest path out of the desert is east. You and your companions can come along with us and wait out this storm—“

“Why are you helping us?” Saemon looks at her, seeming to consider his words.

“I know I have not been the best acquaintance. I have betrayed you at every turn in order to secure my own survival and you detest me for it. But this time, it’s different. Liberating Amkethran is personal. I grew up here. My heart may belong to the road, but Amkethran will always be home to me.” He looks at her, eyes filled with sincerity. She still doesn’t trust him. “Plus, I have grown fond of you in our many dealings. I am a scoundrel and will always be, but you…you are a force of good and purity that is worthy of admiration. You can say that you have grown on me a little.” Saemon gives her his most roguish smile which disarms her for a split second. No. He’s a snake and she cannot under any circumstance trust him.

_“Kill him!”_

Lauranna gives a start. What was that? Her imagination perhaps. Saemon obviously notices her look of alarm and looks around trying to find what caused it. “I cannot go with you. I need to go to Amn. East holds nothing of meaning for me.”

Saemon looks back at her. He looks at her curiously and is immediately replaced with concern. “And survival holds no meaning for you?”

No. She will not throw her plans away, even if Saemon is serious this time. She has to do what she has to do. “My mind is already set, Saemon. I will take the path I have chosen for myself. No one can deter me from it.”

Saemon looks at her for a moment, trying to glean meaning from her words. Finding nothing, he sighs in defeat. “Very well. If you truly are set on this path, then at least let me assist you. Carras has promised that he will be sending someone to guide you through the Path of Daggers. I will tell him to go himself. No one knows that path better than he does and he will be useful with any dangers you might encounter along the way. I will also be arranging for someone to give you safe passage to Riatavin.” She looks at Saemon with suspicion. And this time, she made it apparent so the meaning don’t escape him.

“My lady, please. I know I am not the most trustworthy person in Faerun, but this time I am serious when I say that I will not betray you in any shape or form.” Saemon looks at her and once again, gives her hand a soft kiss. “Your trust will not be wasted this time around, I swear. Consider this as repayment for saving the place of my birth.” His smile is gone, replaced by a look of complete sincerity and seriousness. She still doesn’t trust him, but gives him a nod of approval nonetheless. He will not stop otherwise.

Seeing her approval brought a smile on his face. He gives her one last elaborate bow and turns to leave the inn. She looks at Saemon through the window as he walks away towards the smuggler’s cave. She is a little curious what he plans to do, but returns to her musings of Zakee. Nothing Saemon does will change her course or affect it in any way. If he tries to get in her way, then that would be unfortunate. She might not like Saemon much, but she has begun to “appreciate” his existence. She looks at Calima and found her staring at her.

“Don’t worry, Calima. Everything will be fine.” She scratches the fairy dragon’s iridescent hide and she begins to nibble her finger in appreciation.

 

* * *

 

Jaheira feels a little exhausted after dealing with the merchants. She might not be satisfied with the prices they gave her, but at least she got all that she needed from them. Which was a surprise considering how little there was left. In any case she needs to get back to the inn and prepare her things for the journey. She also remembers that she needs to go to the aviary first and send a message to the Harpers. Not to mention that she still needs to check everyone else to see if they are fit enough to make the journey through the desert. She has a lot to do and might have little time to do it. She sighs and straightens her back. She will endure. She has to.

The village is still bustling with activity as she walks back to the inn, with the repairs and the cleaning up the villagers has to do and the smugglers busy preparing for their journey. She is still troubled by Saemon though. She has to remember to ask Lauranna what he wanted to talk about. If that bastard Carras has betrayed them, she will kill him. Slowly.

As she manages her way through the throng of villagers on the dirt street, she spots something off in the distance that’s quite odd. Sarevok seems to be carrying a sack of potatoes over his shoulders and a bundle of firewood tucked under in his arm. In front of him, obviously leading is a frail and hunched old woman using a walking stick. Jaheira makes a turn towards one of the alleyways and observes the whole scenario.

The old lady stops abruptly in front of one of the houses and turns around to direct Sarevok where she wants the sack and the firewood. Sarevok does as she says and enters the house to relieve himself of his burden. Jaheira is literally surprised that the old lady still has her head attached to her body.

After a short while, Sarevok exits the house and the old lady tries to hand him something. Sarevok refuses what is being handed to him and starts to walk away. The old lady watches as he goes with a smile on her face.

Jaheira walks out of the alley where she’s hiding to approach the old lady. The old lady notices Jaheira and speaks to her in a gentle and warm voice.

“He’s imposing, but quite gentle isn’t he?” She chuckles.

Jaheira watches Sarevok as he makes his way through the village, giving away no expression. “He’s not what he seems. I’m actually surprised that you still breathe after ordering him around.”

The old lady looks at Jaheira with surprise on her face. “What a horrible way to talk about one’s own companion. Is he not with you? I saw you arrive with him along with that bald man who’s not right in the head, the young woman who has a ready smile but sad eyes, and that beautiful blonde elf with observant blue eyes.”

“I consider him no companion of mine. His presence was necessary, but it has outlived its purpose.”

The old woman nods her head at her words. “He has done you wrong personally. You seem to be a strong woman, my dear. Might I remind you that forgiveness is the greatest show of strength and not a weakness?”

Jaheira turns to the old woman, her face devoid of any expression. She makes her words as cold as possible. “You do not know what he has done, the pain and misery he has caused, and to how many people. I do not expect you to understand. Sometimes, forgiveness is just not possible.”

The woman does not look at her, but continues to speak in a warm manner. “Yes, there are men who are beyond redemption. But who are we to judge who is who? How do we mortals truly know that a man is beyond redemption? Do we solely judge by what he has done in the past or do we take into account his present actions? He does not say much, but his eyes speak volumes. It seems he wants to forget his past, but is constantly haunted by it. He seems lost, in a way. I feel pity for him. Truly.”

Jaheira looks away from the old woman to look at Sarevok’s image disappearing into the crowd. “I’m sorry to have disturbed you,” she says coldly, “but I must take leave. I still have a lot to do and little time to do it.” She nods at the old woman in respect and walks on into the crowded street. So, he wants to forget does he?

 

* * *

 

The old woman doesn’t say anything. She just watched as Jaheira disappeared into the crowd. She shakes her head as she walks into her house, musing of a time long ago when she was in the exact same position as the young woman now. “I do hope she doesn’t make the same mistakes I did. But on the other hand, one has to make mistakes if one wants to learn.” She chuckles to herself and closes the door behind her.

 

* * *

 

Jaheira is a little annoyed at the moment. Her annoyance did not stem from the old woman’s words. She doesn’t really know what she’s annoyed at. Or perhaps she just doesn’t want to admit it to herself. She followed Sarevok to a small clearing southeast of the village. The clearing is bordered with a type of desert plant that seems to be all dead branches, but the villagers swear it blooms once a month and produces an edible fruit that has plenty of water in it and is rather sweet. In the clearing, a few of younger men in the village seem to have created a sort of sparring circle. Currently, two of the men are in the circle facing off with what appears to be wooden swords. Sarevok is off to the side by a rack filled with an assortment of wooden weapons, observing and occasionally barking orders to the two young men.

Jaheira approaches one of the young men observing the spar. “What is going on here?” She whispers and tries to be discreet.

The young man is obviously surprised by her sudden appearance and stumbles over his words. “My—my lady! Um, uh, we, uh—we’re just practicing, you know? Um, we thought that we just need to learn to, um, uh—learn to, you know, protect ourselves. So we, uh—we approached lord Sarevok and, uh, asked him if he could, um, you know, teach us. That way, um, you know, uh, we could help protect the village and, uh, you know, um…”

The young man trailed off at her look. She didn’t realize she was frowning. “How long has this been going on?”

The young man is now very nervous. “Um, we approached him the morning after your—your fight at the monastery. Um, you know, he—um, he looked well enough—um, enough, I think. Um, so, um, you know, we asked while—uh, we asked him, um, while everyone else was, you know, busy celebrating. And, um, he said—said, um, yes. Um, did we do wrong, ma’am?”

“Of course not!” she snaps at the youth. “It is good that you are taking initiative and are trying to learn how to defend yourselves and your loved ones. You should watch closely and learn.”

Sarevok notices her and stares, as the two young men in front of him continue to spar, wooden swords making a loud crack as they try to parry each other’s attack. Their stance is awkward though, and one of them is holding his sword wrong. She stares back at Sarevok daring him to say anything about her presence.

“What did I tell you about gripping your sword right?!” he snaps at the youth on his left and walks over to him to correct his grip. “You grip with both hands to stabilize your blade in order to prevent your enemy from parrying it off your hands easily! You also grip with both hands in order to make a more powerful blow! Do you understand?”

The youth nods his head nervously and grips his sword tighter. Sarevok walks back to his previous position. “Now, assume your stance and properly this time, both of you! If this was a real fight, both of you would have been dead the first two seconds!”

“Perhaps they should learn the staff instead.” Jaheira interrupted. “It is more logical, considering that this is a village and not a city where steel is readily available.”

Sarevok looks at her evenly as she walks over to the rack and inspects the staff. “You may have a point.” His reply is even, not menacing at all.

The young men turn to each other and start to murmur among themselves.

“The staff is not the weaker weapon!” he barks to his would be students. Everybody snaps back to attention at his bark. “In the correct hands, a staff can be as deadly as any sword. It has the longer reach and is excellent for a defensive stance.”

Jaheira scoffs at his words. Defensive stance is it? She inspects her staff once again as she walks to the middle of the circle and shoos away one of the men. It’s made of finely aged yew, a rarity in these parts. Sarevok must have acquired these from one of the merchants. It doesn’t compare to her heavily enchanted one of course, but this will do. She takes her stance and looks at her opponent. The other young man is visibly shaking.

“I have no interest in sparring with a boy. Move.” The boy moves to the side and joins his fellow students. She then turns her gaze at Sarevok off to the side. “Care to spar, Sarevok?” Defensive stance is it?

Sarevok picks up one of the wooden sword and walks in the circle opposite Jaheira. “Everybody, watch and learn.” He takes his stance, one foot forward and one foot back, sword gripped with both hands and held to his side at an angle to the ground, pointed away from her.

Jaheira doesn’t give him a chance and attacks immediately. She launches forward staff whirling. She anticipates his attack and blocks his sword that comes from the side. The attack came too late though and she’s now close enough for a kick to his left side. She does so and he blocks it with his left hand. She pivots and narrowly avoids a second slash of the wooden sword.

Jaheira takes a step back. Sarevok has changed his stance. He is now holding his sword over his head. His feet are close together. Jaheira looks at Sarevok in the eyes. So much focus. She attacks.

Jaheira launches herself forward again, staff a blur. She goes straight forward. Sarevok brings his sword down. Jaheira moves to the side a little and smacks his sword to the side. She immediately feints a leg sweep and changes it midway. She pivots and uses her staff instead to hit him in the head. He adjusts a little so she instead hit his shoulder with a loud smack.

What is wrong? His movements are off. She’s seen Sarevok fight with fluid grace and ferocity. Right now, he’s fighting defensively. Why? Is he taking it easy on her? The nerve! She continues her attack furiously and lands a few blows to his leg and arm, but he manages to avoid or block any solid blows. His attacks seem half-hearted, instead he focuses on defence. This makes Jaheira even more furious. She continues her relentless assault. The young men watches on with eagerness. Some even whooped encouragement.

“What’s wrong, Sarevok? Losing your touch? Are you not a blade master of the highest order? Are you not the master of the Deathbringer Assault?” She taunts him as she attacks hoping to get a reaction, but he just continues to fight defensively ignoring her taunts.

“Why do you not attack!? Do you fear you will hurt me? You’ve never had that problem before! You used to revel in your opponents death! You enjoyed killing them!” Sarevok’s eyes changed for a moment. For a second, Jaheira thought she saw regret. She took a step back. She’s breathing hard. So is Sarevok. She looked in his eyes again but he’s back to normal, eyes filled with focus.

“Well? Are you just going to stand there?” Sarevok said breathlessly.

Jaheira decides to end this once and for all. If he’s not willing to take her seriously, then she will make him. She takes her staff with both hand and holds it parallel to the ground. She calmed her breathing.

“You killed Tamoko.”

Sarevok’s eyes widens in surprise, but is quickly replaced by rage, burning rage. His eyes seem aflame. He roars and lunges towards her with blinding speed. She remains calm. Sarevok brings his sword up over his head and brings it down in one fluid motion. Jaheira brings her staff up at the same moment, barely blocking his rage filled attack. She staggers for a second under the force of the blow, but quickly recovers. She brings her right knee up and buries it deep in his abdomen. He grunts. She then pivots quickly moving behind him, staff whirling, and hit him hard at the small of his back. She then swings the other end of the staff hitting him on the side of the head with a loud crack. Sarevok is down on his knees, both hands on the ground, breathing hard. She stands over him, calm and composed. The group of young men watching are silent as the grave.

“You wish to forget? Well, you are not allowed to forget. Men like you should never forget.” She throws her staff on the ground next to Sarevok and walks away. He should never forget.


	5. Chapter 5

He walks on the paved street at a brisk pace, occasionally looking over his shoulders to check if he’s being followed. He pulls at the hood of his cloak, ensuring that his face is covered. He’s nervous and has the right to be. Recent events and revelations has had him nervous, borderline paranoid. Why does it have to be at night? Why can’t they meet in the morning or at high noon? The city at night is a dangerous place. One can never know what lurks deep within the shadows of alleyways or what walks atop the rooftops. Some cities are safer, with guards posted at every corner and the streets are well lit, but not this city. This city has many shadows, shadows where danger lie in wait for the perfect opportunity. The more prominent areas are lit and well-guarded, but for places where the poor are cloistered, let’s just say it’s safer that one does not traverse these streets at night. But he has to. The message was clear.

_“You are in danger. Pack everything concerning your research and meet me at the docks in between the weaver’s and the blacksmith’s shop before moondark. Do not let yourself be seen. –K”_

The note was dropped off near closing time at his shop. He did not see who dropped it off. He just found the small parchment sticking out from one of the tomes on the counter. The parchment had a small mark on it that only he could see. Plus, it’s enchanted so anyone else attempting to read the note would only see jumbled letters. That signifies it’s from her. Nobody else knows the mark except him and his contact. They had established this way of communication between the two of them to eliminate the possibility of a fake message being sent.

The note made him nervous. It’s clear it was written with haste. It lacks the usual flourish that his contact is very fond of and there are ink stains all over the parchment which signifies that whoever wrote the message was in too much of a hurry to bother shaking any excess ink from her quill. He isn’t bothered about leaving though. He has been expecting this for some time now, ever since he found out that he was under surveillance. This is the reason why he always had a pack ready, just in case he needed to make a hasty exit.

He checks the pack under his cloak again. Does he have everything, all the notes and important formulas? He gives a silent prayer that he hasn’t forgotten anything that would give them a clue as to how the artifact works. Before he left the shop, he made sure that none of the things in there would give them even the slightest inkling as to what he’s researching. There are too many research notes to carry with him though, so he had to memorize some of them and burn the copies. He also set up a magical trap that would trigger if someone else other than him tries to force their way into the lockbox he had in the backroom. He didn’t have time though to do the deadlier version of the trap, but the one he set up will hopefully slow them down.

He comes up to a wide intersection and turns left to the main thoroughfare. This road will eventually lead him to the docks. He could take the alleyways which are faster, but decides not to. He would rather walk in well-lit areas where some people are still walking the streets. He still maintains caution though. Most of those people are wearing hooded cloaks like him. It’s hard to tell if one of them is watching him.

The air starts to smell like rotting fish. He’s getting close. He comes up to a short tunnel and is a little apprehensive in going through it. The tunnel may be short, but it’s a heavily shadowed area. Someone could be waiting for him on the other side or even within the tunnel hiding in the shadows. But he has no choice. He steels himself and starts to go through, clutching his pack tightly with one hand and the other his dagger. No one’s there. He gives a sigh of relief and moves on.

Upon exiting the tunnel, he is greeted by the view of the docks and the ocean. The entrance to the district itself is actually on top of a large hill. All the streets that would eventually lead to the docks winds down the hill like great snakes. The streets are also lined with houses, shops, and warehouses. As one traverses the streets down towards the docks, one is subjected to an excellent view of the ocean, but he doesn’t admire it. He’s too nervous. This is one of the more dangerous parts of the city. Like the slums, this area is filled with unseen dangers. Yes, there are guards posted, but the city guards have no power here. They’re mostly just for show.

He’s extra cautious as he walks down the street where his contact directed him to go. There are still people up and about, but most of them are drunken sailors. Some called out to him asking for money to buy more ale. He hastens his steps. He’s almost there.

Suddenly, someone grabs his arm in a vice like grip and quickly pulls him into a small alleyway. He panics. Everything happened so quickly he didn’t have time to react. His captor presses him against the wall and clamps their gloved hand on his mouth preventing him from shouting any form of incantation or cry out for help. A hooded figure comes into view. His would-be attacker looks him in the eye. It takes him a moment to realize he recognizes those eyes. He gives a sigh of relief. She takes her hand off his mouth and takes a step back. She beckons him deeper into the alley. He looks over his shoulder for a moment making sure no one is following and then he jogs after her.

When they’re deep enough in the alley, she stops and turns around to face him. “Is the artifact secure?”

“Well, no one can just come in, grab it, and walk out the city with it, if that’s what you mean.”

“I have no time for games. Is the artifact secure?”

She must really be nervous. “Yes, it’s secure. They have no idea how it works anyway, so they can’t take it. By the way, I thought we were going to meet at the alley between the blacksmith’s shop and the weaver?”

“A diversion. Just to be safe. Anyway, my informants brought me troubling news yesterday. I’ll tell you more of it later. For now, you need to leave the city. I have arranged for a boat to take you somewhere down the coast.”

“Wait. You’re not coming with me?”

“No. I have—“

Her eyes widen in alarm. She lunges forward and shoves him aside. He slams against the wall. He looks up and sees her standing where he used to be, gripping a knife by the blade. The knife is inches from her face. Someone threw that knife.

A flash of silver, another knife flies out from the darkness. This time she dodges it. In one fluid motion, she rolls backward and throws two knives in succession, one in front and the other above. She hits her targets. A body comes crashing down from above and he hears a grunt from somewhere in front. She gets up from her crouch and quickly runs to him.

He’s in shock. “How did you—“

“Never mind that! Teleport us out of here! Now!”

“If I do that, they will sense us!”

“I don’t care! Do it now!”

“All right! Take my hand!” She grabs his hand and he begins the incantation for a teleportation spell. Before he could finish the incantation though, he sees another flash of silver out the corner of his eye. He panics and rushes the rest of the incantation.

It feels like his body is being pushed from every direction, crushing him. He can’t breathe. Everything goes black. It only lasted for a second, but it felt like an eternity. And then as quickly as it began, it was over. He and his companion are no longer in the city. He looks around to see where they are. They’re somewhere down the coast, many leagues from the city. He remembers this place. He used to play here as a child.

He looks around for his companion and finds her on the ground crumpled and shaking. Goddess, did he mess up the spell? Did she lose an arm or some other body part? He quickly summons three globes of light and turns her over. He suffers a shock. Kotarin’s face is filled with black veins that seem to be radiating from somewhere below her neck. Blood is gushing out of her eyes, ears, nose, and mouth. He notices a dagger sticking out of her right shoulder, the dagger he saw fly as he was finishing his teleportation spell. What sort of poison would do this in such a short amount of time? He reaches for his pouch of herbs but realizes that it’s too late for poor Kotarin. She’s no longer shaking and her eyes have glazed over. He closes her eyes and notice that she’s clutching something in her left hand, a parchment of some sort. He takes it along with the dagger stuck to her shoulder. He reads the content of the parchment.

_“Hurry to Athkatla! Found a parchment marked with a red lily in Lord Coldrium’s study! They have hired the Silent Death! Must go to Esmeltaran and inform the Shadow Master! Morul must survive! Failing that, all traces of his research must be destroyed at all cost! Already sent word ahead, but you must hurry nonetheless! –L”_

“Goddess, preserve me!” He’s heard of the Silent Death from his father. They’re supposed to be elite assassins, nearly unstoppable in their hunt for their prey. He looks at Kotarin’s body and offers a silent prayer as thanks. If it wasn’t for her, he would have been dead by now. Is this how desperate they have become? His father once told him that to go into contract with the Silent Death is to court the devil himself. Something about blood as payment. He shivers at the thought.

He searches Kotarin’s body once more to see if there is anything else he could use. After searching, he turns to go, but stops. If they find a body, then they’ll be sure to track him easily. He apologizes to Kotarin’s lifeless body for what he is about to do. He chants an incantation and summons magical flames. He directs it at Kotarin. Her body burns in a white flash. He then chants another spell to create a vortex to scatter the ashes out into the sea. Kotarin once told him that if ever she died, she wanted her body to be cremated and her ashes scattered out at sea. Well, he hopes that this is enough.

He turns to start his journey southward. He already has the perfect place in mind where he can hide and wait for Lauranna to come back. He prays that his coded letter reaches her in time.

 

* * *

 

Lauranna climbs out the window of her room, making sure first that no one is around. She may not be an expert when it comes to stealth, but she has learned a thing or two from Imoen. Plus, she has magic. She’s already casted an invisibility spell on herself and Calima before climbing out. She also left her payment for Zakee to find on the washstand. She quietly climbs down to the alleyway and creep slowly from shadow to shadow. She may have invisibility on herself, but being extra careful never hurt anyone. She stops for a bit, letting a couple of drunken villagers pass by before moving on. On her shoulder, she could feel Calima. She knows they need to be as stealthy as possible. She could feel her claws dig into her shoulder. She’s tense, like her mistress.

Before long, after stopping a couple more times to let someone pass by, she reaches the edge of the village. She creeps behind a small house, making sure not to step on anything dry, which is hard to do considering everything is dry. She hears a couple of voices murmuring. She takes a peek around the corner. She sees the goat herder talking to Zakee of all people. Why is he here?

“I tell you, Zakee, there is an army out in that large oasis. My sister heard Tali speak of it to Zafran when they bumped into each other in the market. Tali says she heard it from one of them merchants when they be talking to the smugglers.”

“And you believe everything Tali says? You know the girl is prone to gossip. Trust me, Helann. There is no army out in the oasis.”

“Well, you are right on that. But still, it could be the reason why them smugglers up and left as fast as you can say coin.”

“My good man, the smugglers have always come and gone as they please. Remember two seasons ago when they also left in a hurry? No one was chasing them then. And I assure you, no one is chasing them now.”

“Well, you are right on that too. Perhaps I will talk to my sister and tell her not to believe everything that Tali says.”

“There’s a good man. Now, you had better turn in else you won’t be able to wake up early tomorrow and heard the goats to their grazing ground. You wouldn’t want your sister to nag you again.”

“That I don’t.” With a chuckle, Helann walks back into the village. But Zakee is still standing there looking out into the desert. Maybe she could sneak past him. She still has invisibility on her. She holds her breath and begins to move. She doesn’t get three feet when she hears Zakee speak.

“You move silently for a spell caster.”

Calima squeaks and Lauranna stops in her tracks. She turns to Zakee and sees him still standing there, looking out into the desert. How did he know?

“It’s all right. Nobody’s watching. And I made sure the people in this house are fast asleep.”

Lauranna figures it would be rude to talk to the kindly innkeeper while she’s invisible and proceeds to dispel her invisibility. Calima warily eyes the innkeeper, poised for action if the situation warrants.

“How did you know?”

He turns to look at her and smiles. “I have very good hearing.” He turns to look back out into the desert. “First off, I believe I haven’t thanked you yet for saving the village. Thank you.”

“You are welcome. It’s nothing really.”

He chuckles. “Now, to business. You cannot trust Saemon or his lackeys. Saemon is…different now. He smells wrong. There is something about him that bothers me for some reason. I find this curious considering I have seen and met Saemon many a times before and have never felt or seen anything odd.”

“I have never trusted Saemon. If you say he will betray me, I am more than aware.”

“Then I assume you already have something planned. Good. You are a clever woman. But take care to not let that cleverness bring about your downfall.”

“ _He’s hiding something.”_

Lauranna gives a start. What was that? Zakee looks at her curiously.

“Is something wrong, my dear?”

“No, it is nothing. Thank you for warning me of Saemon. But why are you doing this?”

Zakee looks thoughtful for a moment before answering her. “You remind me of someone I know. She was an honorable woman, much like you. She had a light about her that seemed to uplift the spirits of those around. One day, I failed her and she died. That wound has already healed, but I vowed to never fail anyone as I did her ever again. So I speak to you now.”

“My condolences. It sounds like she was special to you.”

“She was. But as I said, that wound has healed already.” He turns to her, eyes intense. “Do not go through with your plan.”

Lauranna is a little alarmed. Does he know? How much does he know? She looks at Zakee and like before, she sees an oddity about him that she cannot explain. “Who are you? What are you?”

“Your companions, they do not deserve this. YOU do not deserve this. Do not go through with your plan. There are other ways to atone.”

Lauranna grips her dagger tightly under her cloak. Who is he? How does he know? She didn’t tell anybody what she’s going to do. “You talk as if you know what I’m going to do.”

Zakee sighs. “I cannot read minds, if that is what you’re thinking.  But I have looked into your eyes and saw the same thing I saw in hers a long time ago. I failed her because I did not stop her from doing something she shouldn’t have to do. Now she is dead. So I tell you now, do not do it.”

Lauranna looks at him with a cold glare. “I walk what path I wish. Whatever you think I will do, I do so by my choice, and have put much thought into that choice. You do not know me. I am not your deceased friend.”

He walks towards her. He leans in close and looks deep into her eyes. Calima hisses. Lauranna tenses for a moment. After a few heartbeats, he takes a step back and sighs. “No, you are not. I can see a fire in you. A will that’s unshakable. I apologize if I’ve overstepped my bounds.” He bows before her in apology.

“It is all right. No harm done. Now, I must take my leave. I have quite a ways to go.”

“It’s a pity. The villagers have planned to throw a celebration before you leave. But I guess this is for the best. Safe journey, clever one. Have a care. There are things lurking in the desert that means you harm. They are just waiting for the right opportunity.” With that he walks back into the village.

Lauranna looks at Zakee as he walks back into the village. She remembers a particular moment when she was still a small child of six. Imoen had roused her early that day, saying there were weird looking merchants in Candlekeep. Both of them rushed downstairs into the greeting hall and hid behind one of the pillars. She remembers Gorion greeting an odd fellow that seemed to shimmer to her eyes. It wasn’t his odd colorful clothes that stood out. Nor was it his unusual height or his awkwardness. She remembers one word Gorion spoke at that meeting. Janni.

 

* * *

 

A shadow speeds across the desert in the night, careful not to leave any tracks. Most would find this hard or even impossible, but not for him. He had been trained by the best. As he seemingly glides across the sand, he once again discreetly checks his armaments. He has two long daggers sheathed and tied to his lower back with straps. He has two more long daggers, one in each boot. He has throwing knives up his sleeves and strapped to his belt, along with a few bottles of concoctions with varying effects he will surely need in this hunt.

All of his weapons are coated with poison of course, but one of his own making, not the ones his fellow assassins normally use. He would have used the poison they are famous for, but this hunt is special. So he brought a special type of poison that doesn’t kill immediately, but slowly, over time. The poison will completely paralyze his prey and at the same time heighten their senses almost to a mind numbing point, a point where even a mere touch of a feather would inflict blinding pain and agony. His victims would die, mind lost in a sea of pain. He likes that.

But this poison is special to him not because of its horrific effects. This poison is special because he only uses it on one particular prey. Women. Beautiful women. The last time he used his special poison was when he was ordered to kill a particularly frisky merchant who was in danger of revealing scandalous secrets of a royal. He so enjoyed that hunt. The merchant thought no assassin would be a match for her, but she was wrong. So very wrong. And she paid for that mistake with her life. The shadow enjoyed very much the look of utter horror and agony in her blue eyes as he fucked her mercilessly while his special poison coursed through her veins. He enjoyed the power he had over her as he impaled her again and again, until she could no longer take the pain and died. He even enjoyed fucking her corpse long after she died, her cold lifeless body offering a different kind of pleasure and sensation.

He almost lost himself in the memory. It’s been years since he last used his special poison. He’s excited. So very excited. Fucking a paid whore just didn’t give the right pleasure. He exults in the fact that his masters chose him for this hunt. It doesn’t matter to him that there are others chosen as well. All know how he works. All know what he does to his beautiful victims. None would dare stop him. He is even more excited knowing that his target is said to have the most beautiful deep blue eyes and long golden hair he could grab onto as he takes her from behind. His hands quiver at the thought of ravaging her flesh. This makes him move even faster. It’s time for him to feed.


	6. Chapter 6

A cold breeze blows through the forest of sandstone pillars and massive rock formations, scattering about sand and dust on a small passage dotted with small boulders and sharp rocks and is bordered by a sheer rock face on the left and a dark ravine on the right. Night in the desert is cold, bitterly cold. It’s a wonder why it isn’t snowing. The massive pillars and sharp rock formations doesn’t offer shelter from the cold wind. In fact, it seems to magnify it at times. Imoen shivers as she trudges on with the rest of the group through the maze known as the Path of Daggers, which is another wonder. Path of Daggers? It should be called Path of Massive Pillars and Rocks that Doesn’t Help with the Cold. Who names these things anyway? But she can’t complain really. She could be sizzling under the blazing sun.

It’s been three nights since they left behind Amkethran. This would be their second night within the maze of rocks. They travel during the night and rest during the day to escape the burning desert heat. Traveling at night offers a different challenge though. First is the cold. It can get bitterly cold here at night. Second would be the darkness. The moon offers light, but just barely. They avoid using torches or any other form of light in order to avoid notice. They say these rock formation hide dangers that are attracted to the light. They’ve already encountered one of those dangers a couple of times, an ambush by savage scorpion men and an angry basilisk. They were easily dispatched. Imoen believes those won’t be the only danger they will encounter in this place.

There are many things plaguing her mind right now, how a desert can be so cold and the dangers in travelling at night are just two of many. For instance, why is Carras here? She looks at the smuggler who is only a few meters in front of her. Didn’t he say he would be sending one of his men to guide them through this place? Imoen doesn’t trust his explanation that the one he was supposed to send was sent on another errand, so he made up an excuse to Saemon that he should scout the army at the oasis and send word should they begin to move. He also said he knows these parts better than anyone so he decided to take them through himself to avoid any accidents. She would like nothing more than to put him in an accident. Imoen believes this is some sort of trap. She can tell Jaheira believes this too since she’s been watching Carras’ every move since they entered this damn maze. Well, if he is leading them into a trap, then it would be their downfall. They’ve dealt with ambushes before. Although…Imoen doesn’t want to admit it, but a small part of her would regret it if it came to battle. Carras is a little easy on the eyes. She discreetly watches his backside as he leads them through the maze of rocks.

Another curiosity is Jaheira and Sarevok. There seems to be something going on between those two. Jaheira has been pointedly ignoring Sarevok even more than usual. One time, when she was handing out rations, she seemed to have forgotten Sarevok. She giggled at this inwardly. It’s not that Sarevok isn’t deserving of the harsh treatment, but something else is going on here. Jaheira is usually just cold and pragmatic when it comes to that mountain of a man. This time though, there seems to be anger. Odd. Jaheira is strict, maybe a little harsh, but never hateful. Maybe she thinks it’s time that Sarevok left them. But Imoen believes this is unwise. She still hates Sarevok for what he did, but current circumstances still require his presence. What if an army is waiting for them in this maze too? After everything that’s happened to them, Imoen believes anything is possible now.

Another thing that’s been bothering her is Sarevok’s change in attitude. Oh, he can still drill holes through a rock just by glaring at it, but he seems to be less of a massacre waiting to happen and more of a silent watcher now. His once perpetual scowl and murderous stares are gone, replaced by a silent thoughtfulness, which is disturbing to Imoen. She’s caught him deep in thought a number of times and he almost seems sad, for lack of a better word. This all started right after they defeated Abazigal. That stupid dragon tried to bring down the entire mountain on top of their heads before he died, which he managed to do. All of them escaped though, one way or another. They found Lauranna and Sarevok in an oasis not too far from the foot of that damn mountain, both eerily silent and awkward towards one another. All this, Jaheira’s odd treatment towards Sarevok, Sarevok’s disturbing changes, and the mystery of what happened between Lauranna and Sarevok in that oasis led Imoen to some very disturbing theories. She’s been hesitant to ask Lauranna because she’s too afraid to know the answer. But she decided to watch how things unfold for now before coming to any conclusions. It could just be her imagination. Besides, if she’s wrong, she would never hear the end of it from Lauranna. She shivers at the thought.

Another point of worry is Lauranna herself. Ever since they left Amkethran behind three nights ago now, she has been acting strangely. She always seems to be lost in thought, almost distant. Imoen has tried to cheer her up, but she would just chuckle softly whenever she tried. This brought back the memory of their last night in Amkethran when they stayed up late talking about their future. Lauranna tried to hide it by being excited, but Imoen could see sadness in her eyes. She thinks she’s so clever. Does she think she can hide things from her? It’s true that Imoen doesn’t know what she’s planning, but she can tell that she is up to something. She just hopes that it’s not something stupid.

Imoen sighs at herself. What is the world coming to? She used to be so care free. Now, she worries at every single thing. Next thing you know she’ll start acting like Jaheira, punching greasy merchants left and right. She starts to hear someone whistling a catchy tune. She looks behind her and see Minsc nonchalantly walking and whistling as if everything is fine and dandy, with Boo comfortably sleeping on his bald head. How Boo manages to sleep and not slip and fall is beyond Imoen. Minsc seems to have gotten over the fact that they’re wanted criminals now. Not that it’s true, but still Minsc’s reaction was the most violent at hearing the news. She wishes she could be like him. Not insane of course, just free from all worries and cares. To Minsc, life is simple. Good is good. Bad is bad. If you do bad things, Minsc will kick your butt. Simple. But Imoen knows it’s not as easy as that. The world is not black and white. It’s blue. It’s green. Yellow. The world is colorful and so are its denizens. That’s what makes life beautiful…and complicated. She sighs. She starts to get nostalgic. She thinks of her time in Candlekeep where life was simpler.

Imoen is suddenly taken out of her musings when Carras stops on his tracks after the next turn to inspect a massive boulder blocking their way. He begins to grumble under his breath.

“We need to climb this rock. There’s a passage further on, on the other side going down the ravine that will lead to a small stream. There, we can rest and restock our water supply.” He sounds exasperated.

Imoen frowns at the smuggler. “You sound like you didn’t expect this.”

Carras looks at Imoen and shrugs. “This wasn’t here last time I passed through. It looks like one of the boulders tipped over. It’s not a problem though. It looks like it’s manageable. Would you care to go first?” He smiles and winks at her.

She looks at the massive boulder blocking their path. She grins at Carras maliciously and puts as much honey in her words as she can. “Manageable is it? Well, would you be so kind as to carve out a set of stairs for me first? I do so hate accidentally tumbling down the other side, breaking my neck.”

Carras bows with a flourish. “For you, my dear, anything.”

Jaheira walks up to the two of them. “Will you two stop blathering? Carras, are you sure there’s no other way around this thing?”

He motions exaggeratedly to their right where beyond a small rock outcrop is a dark ravine. “As you can see, my lady, there is a ravine on this side.” He motions to their left with the same amount of exaggeration. “And on this side, you have a rock face that is too smooth to climb. Which path would you prefer?”

Jaheira glares at Carras. She looks like she’s about to punch him. “Very well. Let’s get to it then.”

“Wait,” Minsc interjects eyes intense and serious. “What if we break the boulder in half? That way, there is no need to climb!”

Imoen starts to laugh uproariously. She could hear Sarevok groan in exasperation. Lauranna, who was drinking from her waterskin, splutters and coughs out water upon hearing what Minsc said. Jaheira walks to where Minsc is inspecting the massive boulder and punches him right in the gut. Minsc grunts and doubles over from the force of the punch. Boo falls from Minsc’s head and chatters angrily before scampering up his leg and into his pack.

Carras sighs and turns back to the massive boulder. He begins to check for footholds and begin to climb the thing. Imoen is still laughing when all of a sudden she hears cluttering from the ravine and above the rock face.

Chaos.

Shadows jump out from the edge of the ravine and from above the rock face. A flash of silver. Imoen rolls to her side, dodging the incoming blade. As soon as she gets up, she quickly chants a spell which summons eight fiery arrows which launch immediately at her attacker. Her attacker back flips out of the way and dodges four of the arrows. The remaining four hits, but are swallowed by the shadows that seem to surround her attacker. The shadow moves with viper like grace and speed. It attacks. Imoen doesn’t have time to chant another spell. She quickly draws her blades and desperately blocks the incoming assault. They’re fast, whoever they are.

As she blocks and parries, she quickly assesses the situation. She could see Jaheira, staff a blur, fighting two of the shadows. Sarevok seems to be dancing with the three shadows he’s contending with, flowing from one sword form to another, blocking and attacking. Minsc on the other hand has entered into his battle rage, acting on instinct, ferociously slashing at anything that moves. The two shadows seem hesitant to come within reach of his great sword. Carras, incredibly, has managed to climb to the top of the massive boulder and is fighting two of the shadows. She could not see Lauranna anywhere. She panics for a moment, but remembers what Lauranna is capable of.

A flash of silver, a dagger is suddenly inches from her face. She flips and dodges the attack and at the same time plants a knee under her attacker’s chin. She continues to flip back, trying to create distance between her and her attacker. She stops, short sword in each hand at the ready. Her attacker is gone. She quickly attempts to chant an invisibility spell, but quickly dodges to the side instead as a dagger suddenly appears out of nowhere, determined to plant itself into her neck. Her attacker is appearing and disappearing at will, melding into the shadows at a moment’s notice. She curses in frustration.

Suddenly, light seem to emanate from somewhere, bathing the entire area with brightness. She could finally see her attacker as the shadows flee from the light. The form is distinctly female dressed in black cloth and leather, one long dagger in each hand, half of her face is covered with black cloth. All the assassins are stunned by the light. This gives her the opening she needs. She quickly chants a spell and summons a massive fireball. She releases the spell. Her attacker is swallowed whole by the massive ball of fire and is flung to the rock face. The ball of fire explodes and adds to the light that is bathing the area. Nothing is left but a burning body.

Two bodies come crashing down behind her. It seems she’s not the only one that was given the opportunity to strike. She looks up and finds Carras looking down at the corpses of his attacker. He slides down the boulder and lands lightly on his feet. He begins to inspect the two dead assassins. In the commotion, she failed to notice that Jaheira has transformed into a massive fire elemental, yet adding more light to the area. Her attackers are burning piles of ash at her feet. Sarevok on the other hand has one of his attackers by the neck and is pinning him hard on the rock face. His great sword is currently plunged into the chest of one of his attacker that lay dead on the ground a few feet from him. The other one is literally torn in half at the waste. Imoen checks on Minsc and finds him near the edge of the ravine, still slashing at his enemy’s lifeless body. The other one is nowhere to be found. She cautiously approaches the enraged ranger.

“Minsc, it’s over. You can stop now.”

The enraged ranger stops his attack on the mangled corpse of the assassin and looks back at Imoen, eyes filled with maniacal glee. Imoen gives a start. She will never get used to Minsc’s berserker rages. Minsc then suddenly punches his face and just like that, he’s back to his old self, which is not much of a difference really now that Imoen has gotten a closer look.

Imoen continues to look around and finds Lauranna at the center of the carnage still levitating. She slowly lowers down as the bright light emanating from her begins to fade. She breathes a sigh of relief at seeing her best friend unharmed. Lauranna quickly moves to where Sarevok has one of the assassin captive, intent on interrogation. She doesn’t get three feet when a dagger suddenly bursts out of her chest in a shower of blood. Imoen’s world comes crashing down around her as she watches in horror.

 

* * *

 

 

The shadow watches on from his lofty perch atop the rock face as one of the younger fools plunges an unseen dagger into the back of the image of their prey. Fool. The image shatters like glass as the young assassin gets cut down by the mage with the short sword. Despite his burning anger in realizing that his prey has eluded him, he enjoys the sight of his own comrade being cut limb from limb. He was a fool. He should have seen through the elaborate illusion. The girl is breathing hard from the effort of dismembering the lone assassin.

Seething anger boils deep within him. They have been duped! Weeks spent tracking their prey and for what? Nothing! This prey is craftier than he thought. He slowly moves away from the ledge and quietly starts to move away from the carnage. He notices four other shadows moving in the same direction as him. Only the veterans are left. Good. The young, hot-blooded fools would only have gotten in the way. The prey is dangerous after all if she was able to maintain such an elaborate illusion for such a long time. They’ve only recently found the group traveling through the maze of rocks, but the shadow believes they left Amkethran only three nights before. That means she could still be in the desert somewhere. She’s probably with that large army.

He clenches his fist in anger as he runs through the maze of rocks and sandstone pillars. He believed he was close. He watched the group like the others, waiting for the opportunity to strike. When the opportunity came, he was so ready to jump out of his hiding place and go straight for the blue-eyed blond elf. So ready to incapacitate her with his poison and carry her off somewhere where he could be alone with her, so ready to finally feel his cock penetrate her soft flesh. He almost jumped out of the shadows ahead of the others, but at the very last moment, he realized that it wasn’t his prey. It was merely an image, a very detailed illusion. By then it was too late. The younger assassins have already broken cover and began to attack.

A mistake like this could cost them their lives, but there is still a chance. They have been tracking their prey for weeks now. They are nothing but patient. The shadow is patient. He will taste her flesh yet.

 

* * *

 

 

Imoen draws ragged breaths as she stands before the mangled body of an assassin, she’s soaked in her victim’s blood. The image who she thought was Lauranna has shattered like glass. It was just an illusion, a simulacrum, a very detailed simulacrum. She even created an image of Calima! Lauranna must have sent the simulacrum to the meeting place outside of Amkethran and gone off on her own somewhere. How was she able to maintain the spell for this long though and at this distance? More importantly, where is she? Imoen has a sinking feeling as to where.

She looks around at her companions, and same as her, they are stunned. Everything happened so quickly. Jaheira is the first to speak.

“An illusion! I should have known!” Jaheira growls in frustration.

“But—when? How? Minsc does not understand? Where has Lauranna gone?”

“She’s gone to the army at the oasis out of some foolish sense of honor.” Sarevok replies in a cold and angry voice as he lets go of his captive’s lifeless body. He must have accidentally crushed the assassin’s neck in shock of seeing the image of Lauranna being killed.

Imoen’s heart sinks. She sees Minsc sink to the ground. Exhausted from his recent berserker rage perhaps or is it because of what Lauranna did? So this is what she was up to. She should have known.

“You! You knew of this!” Jaheira shrieks and points an accusing finger at Carras.

Carras starts to back away slowly, hands raised in protest. “Now, now, let’s not jump to conclusions.”

Jaheira isn’t having any of it. She quickly mumbles an unintelligible chant and vines starts to sprout near and around Carras. The vines quickly warp around him, preventing escape. Jaheira walks towards him with forceful strides and punches him hard on the jaw. Imoen could see one of his tooth fly out. Carras spits out blood and flexes his neck and jaw. He then looks at Jaheira calmly.

“I did not know what she planned. She only instructed me to lead you through the Path of Daggers, making sure to take the path Saemon doesn’t know of.”

Jaheira glares at Carras. Her hand clenched, ready for another punch. “What do you mean? Explain!”

Carras sighs. “I am acting as a double agent. Saemon believes I am leading you to a trap he has set somewhere here. I am leading you through another path. One that Saemon does not know exists.”

Jaheira’s glare becomes darker and darker with each word spoken. The vines begin to choke Carras. He continues on in a strained voice. “I…swear I didn’t know…what she…planned to do. But I know…she was worried of…what Saemon would do. I informed her…that ever since returning to the desert…Saemon has been acting strangely. He’s…he’s been a nervous wreck. Before…you even came to Amkethran…he already knew…you would be coming. He had me…scouting the desert before you arrived…looking for any signs of your group.”

Jaheira’s voice no longer sounds angry. It’s cold like deep winter. “How do I know you are not lying to me?”

“You…you…saved my…life and…that of my brethren’s…while Saemon…was willing to…sacrifice us to achieve…his goals. You think that commotion…at the cave…was not planned at all? He wanted to lure you in…so that I could spy on…you.”

Jaheira continues to look at Carras coldly as the vines continue to tighten around Carras’ neck.

“I…I…told you…I am not Saemon. I do not…betray those…who saved my life.”

The vines uncoil and Carras drops on all fours, gasping for breath. Jaheira walks off and gathers her things. She begins to walk back down the path they came from. Imoen jogs to join her along with Minsc and Sarevok.

“Wait…where are you going?” Carras calls to them in between ragged breaths.

“I am going back to that oasis and I am going to drag that girl’s behind out of trouble yet again.”

Carras stands and quickly runs after them. He grabs Jaheira’s arm and stops her on her tracks. Jaheira glares darkly at Carras. He’s going to lose his arm, Imoen thinks.

“It’s too late. They could be out of the desert by now. Plus, you could still run into Saemon. You don’t need me to remind you how dangerous he can be.”

“Let that snake come. I will crush his head if he tries to stop me.” With that, Jaheira yanks her arm from Carras’ grip and walks away.

Imoen on the other hand is not angry. She’s hurt that Lauranna would do this yes, but she also somehow understands. She’s seen too many love ones sacrifice themselves for her. She doesn’t want to see more. Well, Imoen will not stand for it. She will not let Lauranna be the sacrificial lamb. She will go to her and save her. She will then give her an earful on lying to her friends. Provided there’s still a Lauranna left after Jaheira is through with her.

 

* * *

 

 

It’s been two nights since Lauranna left Amkethran and her companions. She’s been trudging through the desert heading for the oasis. It’s still twilight, so she should reach the oasis at candleglass time if she’s lucky. It took longer to reach the oasis this time because she had to take a longer route in order to avoid her companions, not to mention a few roving bandits and a massive purple worm. They were easy enough to avoid. She could have taken care of them easily, but she avoided the confrontation. She didn’t want to attract notice.

She should feel a little fear for what’s to come, but she doesn’t, oddly enough. She feels completely at peace with her decision, although she can’t say for sure about her companions, especially Jaheira, once they find out. She also feels a little guilty with the deception, but it had to be done. She’s already lost too much and is not willing to lose more. She will face the fallout of this Bhaalspawn fiasco alone. And if she’s lucky, she can move on with her life with skin mostly intact.

She stops for a moment, looking for that familiar presence in her mind. Yes, the simulacrum is still active. She made sure to make it as lifelike as possible. She even included an image of Calima. By the time the illusion is too far to maintain, her companions would be out of the desert and well on their way to Amn. And by then, it would be too late for them to stop her. Although she’s certain they would still come after her, she hopes and prays they would not.

She moves on. Calima is currently sitting comfortably on her shoulder. She whines again. She’s been feeling down ever since they left their companions behind. She probably misses Boo. Lauranna reaches up and gently scratch the fairy dragon’s hide.

“It’ll be alright. You’ll see them again soon.”

Calima purrs and snuggles her cheek. The lie feels hollow. There is a chance that she might not see them again if her plans go awry. But what comes will come. She’ll deal with it once she’s there. For now, she needs to hurry and get to the oasis. Things could still go wrong and her house of cards could come crashing down around her if she’s not careful.

She walks on for a couple of hours or more without incident and nothing but the soft light of the moon to light her way. She’s currently traversing a massive sand dune. She stops again for a moment to admire the view of the desert atop the dune. Despite the dangers, the desert looks beautiful and peaceful at night with no clouds and the moon bathing everything with its soft light. A wind blows in her direction, scattering the sand beneath her feet. She pulls her cloak in tighter to protect herself from the cold and moves on before she’s noticed by anything prowling the desert. Calima decides it’s too cold, so she crawls into Lauranna’s hood where it’s warmer.

It doesn’t take her long to finally see a familiar sight, a massive old ruin that she and her companions passed through when they were headed for Amkethran. That means she’s close to the oasis, a couple of hours perhaps. She quickens her steps a little and decides to take a break at the ruins. Once there, she can plan what to do and what to say once she reaches the oasis.

She finally reaches the ruins. This is just one of many that dot the desert, but it’s the largest. She thinks perhaps this was once an ancient city swallowed by the desert. She makes her way through the ruined buildings cautiously, being careful to watch for potholes. This place was once paved but most of the stone pavements are gone or are badly degraded. There are also other dangers she should watch out for. Who knows what lurks within those ruined buildings. She reaches the middle of the ruins, which looks like it was once a marketplace or perhaps a town square, complete with a big fountain in the middle. There are traces of massive pillars that once stood around the big fountain. There are a total of eight pillars, but she can’t be too sure. Of the eight, only three are left standing and they are badly weathered. The rest have either been toppled over or worn down by time. The architecture of the surrounding buildings is reminiscent of Calimshan, but there are subtle differences. She can’t be too sure though due to the weathering and degradation. The most curious thing however is the trace of magic she detects all around the ruins. They’re very subtle and easy to miss, but it’s there. It’s mostly concentrated around the fountain but there are traces of it among the many ruined buildings. She wonders if anybody has tried to explore these ruins before. She’ll probably explore it once all of the excitement dies down. There could be hidden knowledge somewhere here, or lost magic. Lauranna can’t help but be curious. She’s always been fascinated by ancient lore.

Lauranna quickly scans the area to check for any hidden dangers. Once satisfied, she moves to the fountain and sits down. She puts down her pack beside her and takes out her waterskin and a loaf of bread. Calima jumps out of her hood and sits down in front of her, waiting expectantly. Lauranna tears off a piece of her bread and tosses it to Calima, who immediately begins to nibble on the bread as soon as she catches it. She’s about to start eating too, but stops. She looks up at the pillar directly in front of her.

“Good job on avoiding my initial scan of the area. Not many can hide from me so effectively.”

A figure cloaked in black and brandishing a large scimitar suddenly comes out from behind the pillar in front of her. Calima hisses menacingly at the figure, bread tossed aside and forgotten. Without a word of reply, the figure lunches into an attack. Lauranna quickly raises her right hand in the direction of her attacker and recites a short incantation. A bolt of lightning launches from her hand in the direction of her attacker. The dark figure dodges the bolt of lightning, which hits the base of the pillar instead with a resounding boom. The dark figure quickly closes the remaining gap and cuts Lauranna in half. Calima vanishes in an instant and Lauranna’s image shatters into a thousand pieces. The pillar that was hit by the lightning bolt topples and falls on top of the dark figure. The figure dodges quickly though, narrowly missing being crushed. The dark figure gets up and looks around, alert, searching for his prey. Lauranna watches from the shadows. She contemplates sneaking away but decides not to. This is one loose end she does not want unresolved.

She slowly comes out of her hiding place, secure in the fact that her spell of invisibility is still in effect. She raises her hand and points a finger at the back of her opponent just a few feet from her. She concentrates. She gathers and concentrate necrotic energies into the tip of her finger. She releases the spell. The dark figure senses the attack coming and rolls to the left at the last second dodging the spell. In one fluid motion he gets up from the roll and lunges towards her swinging his scimitar. She dodges his attacks with uncanny grace her race is blessed with. She slowly lures him to a particular area near the edge of the massive square. As she’s doing this, she peers into the hood of her attacker’s dark cloak. She sees her opponent’s eyes. They are filled with malice, and for some reason, desperation.

She gets to the spot where she wants the dark figure in. She dodges his attack one more time by rolling out of the way. She quickly pulls out her enchanted dagger and plunges it on the ground completing a magic circle she discreetly placed earlier. The trap is triggered and her opponent is imprisoned within a cylindrical tube made out of pure arcane energies, the runes on the ground glowing in a soft bluish light. Her attacker tests the barrier with his scimitar. The scimitar rebounds rather violently as it touches the barrier. He proceeds to thrust his weapon on the ground and pulls back the hood of his cloak.

“You are as crafty as they say.” Saemon says to her with a wide, maniacal smile.

“And you are as predictable as the rising sun.” She replies coldly.

“Oh, am I?” He begins to laugh maniacally.

She hears a shuffle from behind her. Instinct takes over as she rolls to dodge an attack from what looks to be a dune stalker. As she gets up from the roll, she unleashes an altered form of a magic missile spell she has been experimenting with. Instead of firing a number of missiles, this one fires a single concentrated blast of arcane energy. She still doesn’t know the effect of this spell since this is the first time she’s using it. The blast hits the dune stalker square in the chest with enough force to knock it back a couple of meters. The creature slams into one of the pillars. She doesn’t get respite though as she feels the barrier holding Saemon shatter. Saemon retrieves his sword and quickly goes into the offensive. A glowing gem lies on the sand where he was standing, its light quickly fading. Lauranna blocks the incoming attack with her dagger and fires another modified magic missile at Saemon. The blast throws him back as well. She hears an ear piercing shriek from above. A second dune stalker. She covers her ears as waves of sonic energy bombard her. She feels her whole body vibrate under the assault. The pain is almost unbearable. The second dune stalker pounces on her. She manages to roll away at the last second and blast the creature with another magic missile. The creature is thrown forcefully into one of the buildings, shattering the wall as it goes through. Lauranna breathes ragged breathes. She’s still reeling from that last attack. She hears the first dune stalker start to recover from her attack. Saemon is getting up as well.

“I just can’t catch a break, can I?” She sighs in exasperation.

Saemon maliciously smiles at her. “It seems you can’t, my dear. Now, why don’t you be a good lass and die?”

“Why are you doing this?”

Saemon recoils from the question as if slapped in the face. “Because I must.” He replies reluctantly.

An odd reaction to a question and an even odder answer. “Were you offered a huge sum by the leader of that army for my head?”

Saemon laughs at the question this time. “You think that one is your only enemy? My dear, you have angered quite a lot of people in your travels. Do not be narrow-minded. It doesn’t suit you, my dear.”

Lauranna notices the first dune stalker start to circle the perimeter around her. She could also hear the one she threw into the building start to stir. She needs to wait for the right moment. She only has a small window of opportunity. She readies her dagger.

“Well, if you’re not going to do anything, I might as well.”

Saemon and the dune stalker attack at the same time. She also hears the second dune stalker jump out of the rubble. She quickly rolls to the magic circle she drew and plunges her dagger on it once again before any of the dune stalkers can let out another one of their shriek attack. This time she modifies it as quickly as she can. The lines of the magic circle start to unravel and quickly snake towards the two dune stalkers. It worked! The dune stalkers are paralyzed. Saemon gets to her in time though and brings his sword down. The sword plunges into her flesh and her image shatters. Saemon unleashes a guttural bellow in frustration.

This time, Lauranna doesn’t attempt a spell. She strikes at Saemon from behind with her dagger. Saemon though senses the attack and dodges it. She follows it up with quick strikes, not letting Saemon achieve a distance where he can effectively use his larger weapon. She uses all of her skill in melee just to keep him at a close enough range. She needs to finish this quickly. Her paralysis spell won’t hold the dune stalkers for long. The makeshift spell is weaker than the original and dune stalkers are notoriously resistant to magic.

Saemon laughs maniacally. “A sorceress resorting to melee? It seems I gave you too much credit.”

Lauranna ignores the taunt and continues with her assault. She manages to land a hit a couple of times. “Just a little more,” she thought.

Saemon proves to be the better at melee and finally creates some distance by blocking her attack and kicking her in the gut. She grunts and is knocked back with the force of the kick. Saemon quickly capitalizes and brings his sword up and slashes down at her, eyes filled with glee. Calima appears just in the nick of time though. The fairy dragon materializes right in Saemon’s face and unleashes her breath attack full force. Saemon screams as he gets hit on the face with a cloud of dust that disorients and blinds him. But he manages to grab Calima despite being blinded and throws her to the ground. Calima is knocked unconscious from the impact of hitting the ground. Saemon brings his foot up in an attempt to crush the miniature dragon with a stomp.

“Die, you insect!”

But Calima’s distraction gave Lauranna the time she needed. It’s not enough, but it will have to do. She points her dagger at Saemon and shouts a short incantation activating the runes she implanted on him during the melee. The runes glow red and explodes. Saemon screams in pain. Still blinded from Calima’s attack, he starts to swing his sword wildly, spattering his blood all over the place. Lauranna quickly moves and grabs Calima from the ground. She sprints to the fountain and deposit Calima in a small hollow at the base where she can be safe.

She hears the dune stalkers shriek in triumph as her makeshift paralysis spell wears off. She looks around and sees all three slowly advancing on her. Saemon rubs his eyes with a bloody hand. As he gains back his eyesight, he starts to snarl at her.

“Enough with your trickery! This ends now!”

They attack at the same time. She raises her hand directly at Saemon, but hesitates.

_“Why do you hesitate?”_

The world around her suddenly slows down nearly to a halt. She hears her heart beat at a rapid pace.

_“He is a worm—no! He is nothing before our power! Here, let us show you.”_

She starts to see the world through a red haze. Her hand moves on its own volition. She hears herself chant a spell. Power wells up within her. Arcane energies begin to coalesce around her attacker to form three massive, disembodied hands. She sees herself clench her hand into a fist. Her three attackers are crushed. Their bodies explode in a sea of blood as she watches. She could hear bones crack. She hears herself laugh maniacally.

She blinks. What happened? Did she black out? She looks at her attackers. There’s blood everywhere. The dune stalkers begin to melt and evaporate. Saemon is on the ground, blood streaming from his eyes and mouth. He coughs weakly. How did this happen? Who did this? She takes a look around to see if anyone else is there. She hears Saemon cry weakly.

“Lauranna…”

She approaches him warily. Upon closer inspection, it seems he sustained massive injuries. He’s bleeding everywhere. Both his arms are twisted in odd angles and a few bones are sticking out. His left leg has been torn off. The other looks like it’s been crushed. He tries to breath, but coughs out blood instead. She kneels down beside him. He starts to speak weakly.

“I’m sorry…Lauranna. I…I…didn’t have…a choice. I…tried…to stop. But it…was…too painful. They caught me…right after…I escaped the…ship…we…we stole from…Desharik. They forced…a…a…geas on me…told me…to hunt you…down. I tried…Lauranna. I tried…”

He looks at Saemon sadly. “Who did this Saemon?”

He coughs out blood violently. He tries to speak but couldn’t find the strength. He instead beckons her to move in closer. She leans down to let him whisper something in her ear. She frowns as Saemon whispers to her the answer to her question. She gets up and contemplates what Saemon told her. Saemon coughs one last time. His eyes glaze over. His last breath leaves his lungs. Saemon Havarian is dead.

She closes his eyes and gets up. She looks down at Saemon’s mangled corpse, sadness in her eyes. She remembers quietly asking the older people in Amkethran if ever there was a Saemon that grew up in the village. They said the only Saemon they knew of was a carpenter who died when a plague hit the small village more than 30 seasons ago. Both the carpenter and his wife died, leaving behind a boy barely six seasons old. They said the boy disappeared two days after his parents’ bodies were burned in a pyre along with the other plague victims and was never seen or heard of again.


	7. Chapter 7

Kristov Jaxxton is comfortably sitting on one of the many cushions in his large tent as he sharpens his katana with a whetstone, a nightly ritual before turning in. He focuses on his task, allowing the rhythmic movement of sharpening his blade and the sound it makes to act as a focus for his meditation. The tent has enough light for his eyes, so there’s no danger of cutting himself. He chuckles. He remembers the first time he cut himself with a blade. That was a lifetime ago, a more turbulent time, a time filled with pain and regret.

While meditating, he catches his reflection on his sharp blade. While most would call him handsome, the same people would also say he’s stern. This is due to the jaw that he got from his father. Despite being half-elven, he did not inherit any of his mother’s delicate features. Except for his golden eyes and slightly pointed ears, he looks more human than elven. His face has a few scars and his skin, once fair, is now darkened due to the rigors of the life he’s led as an active paladin of Tyr. Not to mention a very troubled past before he found solace in the Maimed God. He notices his silver hair. It’s grown past his ears. He needs to trim it soon and shave that three-day old stubble as well. One needs to look presentable if one wants to be taken seriously.

It’s been three weeks since his arrival in the large oasis along with the small army the queen provided him. The soldiers are getting restless, often times getting into fights with each other or with the hired adventurers/mercenaries. He’s had to publicly punish a few of the soldiers and some of the mercenaries a couple of days ago for brawling. The mercenaries he can understand, but he expects better from the royal army. They all need to learn discipline and patience.

Reports from Amkethran are varied. Some of their contacts say that the Bhaalspawn has no plan on leaving anytime soon. Some say it and its companions are leaving the village a day or so from now. Some even say that it already left in secret. It seems the creature is as cunning as previous reports say if it has spread this much rumors to cover its movements. But Kristov is confident the Bhaalspawn will not escape him. He has all the exits covered. After the last fiasco that caused the death of General Jamis Tombelthen, Queen Zaranda spared no expense and provided him with all the resources he needed.

There is one odd thing about this hunt though. Based on previous reports, the Queen ordered Lord Tombelthen to capture and immediately execute the Bhaalspawn. But now, the orders are different. His orders are to apprehend and capture the Bhaalspawn. The Bhaalspawn will then be brought to the capital to face trial. Why? Has the queen come across information that would cause her to change her mind? He has his own suspicions though.

He, himself, has received mixed reports on the creature. Some say that the creature is monstrous and ruthless, killing everything in its path. Others report a more benevolent being, helping the weak and offering aid to those who are in need. Kristov is a little skeptical on the latter. It is a spawn of Bhaal after all, the spawn of the former god of murder. But he did not get to where he is now by adopting a narrow view of the world. He may be skeptical of the latter report, but he still takes it into consideration. It has to have come from somewhere after all.

His thoughts and meditation are suddenly disrupted by a knock on the post outside his tent. His guardsman announces his intent in a low baritone voice. “Lord Jaxxton, Councilman Tarmon wishes to speak with you.”

Kristov sighs. What does he want now? Not another attempt at convincing him to make a move on Amkethran, he hopes. It’s getting quite tiring hearing the councilman try to convince him into his way of thinking. It’s also getting late. The councilman better keep it short or Kristov won’t be getting much sleep tonight. “Let him in.” He replies in a tired voice.

A balding old man with a stoop and a narrow and wrinkled face enters the tent. He is garbed in a richly embroidered white robe divided for riding. He is also wearing a tabard that symbolizes his status as a councilman in the royal court of Tethyr, a sign of pride in his status if an odd one. Lord Gideon Tarmon is an old man who possesses sharp, blue eyes and a purposeful stride despite his outward look of age and frailty.

When he received a letter from the queen requesting him to take over the hunt for the Bhaalspawn Lauranna, he was quite surprised that the councilman would be joining him. Apparently, the councilman has insisted on being part of the party that would apprehend the Bhaalspawn.

He’s never really met the councilman before this hunt began. He’s only heard odd rumors and hearsay. Rumors of his sudden appearance some years ago, rumors of how he quickly worked his way up the political ladder in Tethyr despite the troubled state it’s in (or perhaps because of it), even rumors of his eccentricities, particularly his strange fondness for exotic food, food that would cause revulsion in some, but would be considered a delicacy in other parts of the world.

There is also something odd about the councilman. There were times that he saw a predatory look in his eyes whenever something caught his interest. Despite not detecting any evil intent from the old man, for some reason, he makes his skin crawl. On the outside, Councilman Tarmon is just an old man possessing an aura of age and wisdom, but his dark eyes belie a sharp and cunning mind. This is evident in his quick rise to power. There is also something about the way he carries himself. He has a stoop, but only the blind would say he is weak and frail. There is strength in the way he walks, solidity in the way he projects himself to the world. Not a drop of malice or evil, but there is…something. Kristov doesn’t distrust or hate the old councilman, but he is wary of him.

The councilman looks at him with those calculating eyes. He speaks in an almost monotonous tone. “Good evening, my lord. I hope the night finds you well?”

Kristov sighs. He sheaths his sword and sets it aside.  “What do you wish of me, councilman?”

“Not even going to invite me to sit? Not very chivalrous of you.”

Kristov doesn’t take the bait. The councilman has been trying his patience on purpose, often times questioning his orders and second guessing his decisions in front of his lieutenants. He doesn’t know why the councilman is doing this though. “I apologize. I am tired, Lord Tarmon. I have been practicing my sword work all day with the soldiers. I keep my skills up and improve theirs at the same time. Please, do sit down.”

The councilman moves to take one of the vacant cushions and places it right in front of Kristov. He slowly lowers himself and after making sure that he’s comfortable, focuses those eyes again on him. “Now, I must tell you again how foolish this plan of yours is. We need to move on Amkethran now and secure the bhaalspawn before she escapes. I need not remind you the importance of this mission of ours.”

Kristov resigns himself to the upcoming debate. “I know the importance of our mission, Lord Tarmon. You need not—“

“Do you? Do you really know how important?”

He scowls at the old man. He’s never been so bold as to interrupt him. He must be getting desperate. This is his chance to end this argument once and for all. “Yes. I do. By apprehending the Bhaalspawn, we are eliminating a threat to the peace and prosperity of Tethyr.”

The councilman opens his mouth to argue, but Kristov doesn’t let him. “This is also a political move.”

The councilman closes his mouth and stares at him, curiosity in his eyes. Kristov moves on. “Did you think me ignorant? I have read the reports on Lord Tombelthen’s demise. The Queen’s original orders were to capture and execute the Bhaalspawn immediately. But now, the orders have changed. I am to capture the Bhaalspawn and bring it back to the capital to stand trial. I have wondered that as we traveled. Why would the queen change her orders? The only logical answer is to show to the rest of the kingdom that she is capable of upholding the law in her domain. She could forego with this trial, but why do that when she can make a show of it to the political families in the kingdom thereby gaining their support. Also, reports on the creature are mixed. Some hail it as a hero, while others say it is a ruthless murderer. By holding a trial, the Queen will be able to shed light on answers long overdue. Imagine it. If the creature is found guilty, Queen Zaranda would be seen dispensing justice to a godchild who reportedly bathed the entire Swordcoast in blood and destroyed the city of Saradush not too long ago. It would solidify her rule more than putting down any rebellion could. Tell me I am wrong, councilman.”

The councilman is silent. He has that predatory look again, but it vanishes in mere seconds. “You see far more than you let on, my lord. They say that you are a military man through and through, yet you possess a mind of a politician. Interesting.”

“And I have heard odd rumors about you, lord councilman, particularly your quick rise to power. Some say you murdered and coerced your way to reach the Queen’s side.”

At the mention of one of the prevailing rumors, the councilman becomes guarded and his tone becomes icy. “The jealous will often invent stories to justify their lack of competence. My rise to power is all due to the fact that I am a capable man and I have the kingdom’s best interest at heart. The Queen and her consort know this. That is why they trust me.”

Kristov hides a smile. He has finally turned the tables. “Is that so? So the rumors of you eating the brains of infants and you plotting to become king of Tethyr by using dark, eldritch magic are false then?”

This time the councilman’s impeccable calm cracks. “How dare you! I am no traitor! I have worked tirelessly to bring peace to these lands! I have given Queen Zaranda vital information on all her political enemies to solidify her rule! I have done nothing but contribute to the well-being of Tethyr!”

The councilman stands, murder in his eyes. He turns and stalks off to leave the tent. Kristov gives a sigh of relief. Finally, some peace and quiet. The councilman won’t be coming to his tent anytime soon. But he does feel guilty though. That particular rumor about eating the brains of infants was one of the more far-fetched ones. And the rumor did come from the councilman’s political rival, Lord Augustus. One of his contacts in the capital was able to trace it back to the council member. But if it will get the councilman off his back, he can live with that particular deception. He blows out the lit candles in his tent and prepares to turn in for the night. He calls to his guard. “Lieutenant Dorn, I am turning in for the night. Unless it’s an emergency, do not disturb me.”

“Yes, my lord. And incidentally, good work, sir.”

Kristov chuckles at the lieutenant’s words as he turns in for the night.

* * *

 

Lord Gideon Tarmon stalks away from the paladin’s tent, maintaining a facade of indignant rage, but inside, he chuckles in amusement. He wondered how long it would take for the paladin to finally show his teeth and indeed he has. He even used some of the rumors surrounding the councilman to gain the upper hand in the argument. His contacts have proven true. The paladin possesses far greater insight into politics than everyone believes. Lord Jaxxton shows promise, but he needs to be careful. Kristov is a paladin after all and paladins of Tyr are not particularly fond of his kind. If he’s not careful, his head could end up on a pike.

But he can’t afford to be overly cautious as well. Disturbing reports from the capital continue to pour in. The Bhaalspawn must be apprehended as soon as possible. It is as Kristov said. This is a political move. He would know since he was the one that convinced the Queen to take the Bhaalspawn alive. But there is another reason to his actions. The Kingdom is in danger. If the godchild is as skilled as reports say, then she will be needed. He knows he’s gambling on this, but he has no choice. Tethyr will fall if he doesn’t do anything.

There are many reports concerning the Bhaalspawn Lauranna and her exploits, but only a few could be trusted. That she is powerful is of no doubt, being a demigod and all. But what really caught his attention is her reputed cunning. Some of his spies say that the godchild prefers guile and subterfuge to solve any conflict she encounters despite the power she holds. It is only when there is no other choice will she resort to violence. The godchild was raised by one of the most cunning minds he has ever encountered, so it stands to reason that she would be like her mentor, Gorion. Her rumored exploits in the Underdark is of particular interest to him. A very dangerous prey all in all and Kristov will need all the help he can get in apprehending her.

Despite all but proclaiming a lack of trust in the paladin’s plans, he is actually quite impressed with how Lord Jaxxton has made use of the resources the Queen afforded him. Lord Jaxxton has all the known exits in and out of the desert watched, including the passages the smugglers use. And to be extra cautious, the wizards have placed hidden markers on all the possible exits. That way, if the Bhaalspawn does decide to not go through the oasis, it would only be a matter of triggering one of the markers, alerting them of the godchild’s location. The wizards can then use the marker to teleport the entire army to that particular location. A sound plan all in all, but will it be enough? It will have to be. The Queen has given them all the resources she could spare and then some. They must succeed.

He’s nearly at his tent located at the western side of the camp when an alarm suddenly blares from somewhere to the east. What’s this? An intruder? He turns and quickly makes his way to the eastern side of the camp. Chaos ensues as mercenaries and soldiers alike are awakened by the alarm and start to make their way to the source of the commotion. He reaches Lord Jaxxton’s tent and finds the paladin already outside in full gear and with a grim expression on his face. He starts to walk to the eastern side of the camp. Gideon quickly catches up to the paladin. “What’s going on?”

The paladin doesn’t look up from inspecting the buckles on his armor while walking. “It’s here. Our scouts found it approaching the camp, alone.”

His eyes widen in surprise. “What?! How did she get so close without our wizards detecting her presence?”

“Oh, they did. That’s why the scouts found it easily. They said it wasn’t exactly hiding. They’re bringing it here now.”

“Curious.”

“Indeed.”

The young paladin finishes inspecting his armor and proceeds to bark a series of orders to the clamouring soldiers. They quickly run ahead to form ranks, clearing a path towards the eastern entrance of the camp. The various mercenaries follow as well, forming up behind the soldiers. The six remaining wizards from the capital are already following him and Kristov.

Gideon is thoughtful as they make their way through the camp. What could the godchild be thinking? He expected her to try and avoid them by using one of the secret passages that lead out of the desert. Is this some sort of trick?

Kristov suddenly stops in his tracks. Gideon looks up. They’re already within the eastern section of the camp. He looks ahead and sees a group making their way towards them. They’re still too far for him to see them with clarity. The wizards begin to line up behind him and Kristov, ready for the coming encounter. He calmly takes his place beside the young paladin. This will be very interesting indeed.

* * *

 

Lord Kristov Jaxxton steels himself for the coming encounter. He could already see a group making its way towards them. They’re still too far to make out in the darkness despite the torches and campfires that dot the camp. The soldiers and mercenaries are tense. They are about to come in the presence of one of the most dangerous creatures in the realms. He looks down beside him and sees the stooped councilman, calm and collected.

After what seems like an eternity, the approaching group of people is finally close enough for him to make out. The reports are accurate. Flanked by two towering soldiers and trailed by four of his ten wizards is one of the most beautiful creatures he has ever encountered. The elf has long golden hair and deep blue eyes. It’s wearing a dark blue, almost black dress that accentuates its lithe but curved features. The dress, of unknown material, is cut low exposing its shoulders and part of its ample bosom, and has intricate silver embroidery all over the bodice. The hem of the long skirt is also embroidered by the same silvery material. The sleeves are long and it flares out at the end, hiding part of its hands. The boots are slightly raised at the heel to make it seem taller, but he estimates it to be no more than 5’5’’ in height. He also notices a collar made out of pure arcane energy around its neck. The collar has a chain that connects it to the cuffs that’s binding its hands together. Runes that are cackling with energy surround it as well. The wizards are not taking any chances.

Despite being bound and flanked by two large soldiers that tower over it, the creature seemed at ease, its lips slightly curved into a smile. It studies its surroundings calmly with calculating eyes. Its strides are confident and self-assured, with hips gently swaying in an alluring manner. All in all, it doesn’t look like a prisoner is being escorted to face judgement. It looks more like a queen is being escorted by her honor guards. The illusion is completed by the fact that one of the escorting soldiers is carrying its belongings, a large hooded cloak and a small pack. The soldiers and mercenaries flanking the path are watching either in awe or fear. They’ve heard the tales.

As the creature approaches, he suddenly notices the councilman make a slight movement. He looks at the councilman out the corner of his vision and sees no visible change in the old man. He is still calm and collected, hands clasped together behind his back.

The creature finally arrives in front of them. It looks at him and the councilman and bows gracefully to both of them despite its bonds. It then greets them in a melodious voice. “My lords, I greet you. I am Lauranna. I hope this evening finds both of you well. Do forgive me for causing quite a stir, but I believe you are looking for me.”

Kristov scrutinizes the creature in front of him. Odd. He doesn’t detect any evil from it. Perhaps there is some credit to that report of it being a creature of benevolence. The councilman takes a step forward. “Greetings, my lady. I am Councilman Gideon Tarmon, adviser to Queen Zaranda Star Rhindaun and her consort, King Haedrak Errilam Alemander Olosar Lhorik Rhindaun III. This gentleman beside me is Lord Kristov Jaxxton, a knight of the realm and a servant of the Maimed God, Tyr. I believe you already know why we are looking for you.”

The creature looks deep into the councilman’s eyes. All of a sudden, Kristov feels a wave of evil suddenly emanate from it. He remains calm, but readies himself by shifting his stance. But as sudden as its appearance, the feeling of evil is now gone. It all happened in a span of a few seconds. What sorcery is this? No creature could hide its evil from him.

The councilman turns his gaze on Kristov and looks at him curiously. He noticed his slight shift. The creature answers the councilman’s question calmly though, not noticing anything amiss. “I believe this is about Saradush, my lord.”

Without changing his stance and before Councilman Gideon could reply, Kristov calmly speaks, “That is but one crime among many that are laid at your feet. We are here to apprehend you so that you might face trial in the capital. If you wish to dispute the claims, you may do so there.”

The creature looks at him through long eye lashes, lips curved into a small, seductive smile. “Of course, my lord, I shall surrender myself to you peacefully and without hesitation. But before you incarcerate me, my lord, might I request food and water? I would also like a place where I can clean myself up as well.”

He looks at her with cold calm. Now that she’s closer, Kristov notices that she looks disheveled as if she’s been in a fight of some sort. He wonders what might have happened out in the desert. He turns to the soldier beside her. “Take her to a nearby vacant tent and give her time to clean up. Make sure to check her belongings for any artifacts or weapons and confiscate it. You will then bring her to the cage we brought with us. Make sure to have five soldiers stand watch along with two wizards. Also, bring her food and some water. If at any time she resists or tries anything, kill her without hesitation.”

The two soldiers salute and move to escort their charge to a nearby tent. The Bhaalspawn turns to them first though and gives them another graceful bow before allowing herself to be led to a nearby vacant tent. Kristov watches as they go. As soon as they’re out of sight, he lets out a soft sigh. The soldiers and mercenaries begin to break up. The air is filled again with a soft buzz of murmurs. The soldiers will not be getting much sleep tonight after this excitement. He notices the councilman move in beside him.

“A remarkable woman, wouldn’t you say?”

“Yes, not at all what I expected.”

“Why did you suddenly move as if attempting to lop off her head?”

He frowns. “I felt something.”

“Evil?”

“I’m not sure, but I felt something when she looked at you.”

“You said so yourself, you’re tired from a day’s work.”

He pauses before replying. “Yes, perhaps you are right. Now, I must go and write out instructions as to the rotation of her guards. I also need to make sure that the proper safeguards are in place.”

The councilman nods in approval. “It never hurts to be careful, especially with that one. I will go on ahead as well and send word to the Queen.”

“Yes, do that. And also, check in with the scouts. Make sure that all are accounted for in the camp.”

“As you wish.”

The councilman moves on to do his work. Kristov makes his way back to his tent. He pauses outside to quickly give instructions to his guards before going into his tent. Once in his tent, he lights the candles once more. He goes to his traveling desk and begins to write specific instructions for the soldiers guarding the Bhaalspawn, rotations and names of specific soldiers he wants watching her. He chooses carefully. Their prisoner is a dangerous one, despite her having come peacefully. He rubs his temples after writing the instructions. What was it that he felt back then? He was so sure it was evil, but it disappeared so quickly that now he doubts. Is it possible for someone like her to cloud the vision given to him by his patron God? Tyr is almighty and all-knowing. A mere demigod should not be able to cloud his eyes. And yet…

No. Perhaps he’s just tired from a day of working with his soldiers. He gets up and head to where the Bhaalspawn is being held in order to make sure that everything is ready for when they move out of the desert and head for the capital. There is a lot that needs to be done before they can do so. He sighs. He will not be able to get much sleep after all.

* * *

 

There was much commotion while Lauranna was cleaning herself up in one of the tents in the camp. While searching through her belongings, the soldiers were suddenly assaulted by an angry Calima whose rest they have disturbed. The fairy dragon quickly rushed to her mistress’ side after having blasted one of the guards with her breath attack which had random and unpredictable effects on the victim. The guard is all right, but he’ll be knocked out for the rest of the evening.

She washes her face clean and dusts herself before stepping out of the tent with Calima perched on her shoulder. One of the soldiers, a young man with a smooth face and deep brown eyes, stops her though and Calima starts to hiss at him menacingly. She notices a slight blush on his face. “I…I’m sorry, my lady, but I will need you to…to take your clothes off.”

She raises her eyebrow and smile slyly at the blushing soldier. “That’s very forward of you, young man.” She said in an exaggeratedly breathless manner.

The soldier chokes in a moment of panic and his blush becomes more furious. “No! No! I…I didn’t mean it like that! I mean…Senior Enchanter Colleen said to take what you’re wearing as well because she said it’s heavily enchanted! I…I…”

She continues to smile slyly at the young soldier in front of her, determined to tease him some more. “Am I to go in the cage with nothing on then? Is that what YOU want?”

The young man begins to sweat trying to find his words. “I don’t…I mean…”

Suddenly, a middle-aged woman with dark brown hair and a stern face steps into view. She must be Senior Enchanter Colleen. She’s carrying a small bundle which she tosses to Lauranna immediately. “You can put that on, sorceress.” She turns to the soldier. “You will remain here while I go inside to make sure she’s not hiding anything under that ridiculous outfit. If you hear anything amiss, alert the others and come straight inside to assist me.”

The young soldier quickly moves out of the way. “Yes, ma’am.”

Colleen then turns to her. “Well? Get on with it then, sorceress.”

She bows slightly to the wizard. “Of course, my lady, as you wish.” She turns back to go inside the tent, but notices the young soldier still looking. She discreetly winks at him slyly before going into the tent. The young soldier’s eye widen and he turns away in embarrassment.

As she goes inside, Colleen follows her and situates herself at the tent entrance, eyes cold and uncaring. Lauranna turns towards her cold-eyed sentinel, raising her bound hands towards her. “How am I supposed to change with these on, my lady?” Without a word or changing her expression, Colleen points a finger at her bonds. The chains connecting the shackles and collar suddenly disappear. “Ah, thank you.”

She begins to undo her “ridiculous outfit” in front of the wizard’s uncaring gaze, as Calima puts herself in between her mistress and their jailor ready for anything. Colleen looks at the tiny dragon and scoffs in amusement. After taking off her dress, Lauranna carefully folds it and sets it aside. She inspects her new clothing. It’s a sad looking, modest brown dress made from rough wool. It has patches all over it and the hem looks frayed and worn. She’s sure it will itch, especially when she starts to perspire under the desert heat. She turns to her silent guardian, a smile on her face. “Lovely. I like it.”

The wizard’s frown deepen. Lauranna decides not to test her patience further and puts on the dress. To her surprise, it actually doesn’t itch as much as she anticipated. It also fits quite well and it’s clean. She gives it one final adjustment before turning to her captor. Colleen points at her boots. “Those as well.”

She raises an eyebrow. “They’re enchanted?”

The wizard continues to point at her boots. “Yes.”

Lauranna sighs and removes her boots. She sets it aside beside her folded dress and turn back at her captor. “Well? Is my lady satisfied?”

The wizard doesn’t say anything and points her finger again at her shackles. Magical energy begin to coalesce to form chains that connect the shackles on her hands to the collar around her neck again. The wizard then drags her out of the tent and shoves her towards the two soldiers standing guard outside. Calima quickly glides after them and lands on her mistress’ shoulder. “Take her to the cage we prepared. If she tries anything, kill her.” She then walks off in another direction.

Lauranna calls out to her. “Thank you for your assistance, my lady.” The wizard slows down on her tracks looking like she’s about to turn around, but continues on instead with purposeful strides. Lauranna watches as the wizard disappear among the many tents in the camp.

She hears a harrumph from behind her. She turns around to face her escort and notices the young soldier from before still blushing slightly and the other older one looking a little sheepish. She also notices a slight look of regret in the young soldier’s eyes. She smiles at them warmly. “Gentlemen, you will have to lead. I do not know the way to my cage.”

The older soldier is the one to speak. He motions in the direction towards the center of the camp. “Right this way, my lady.” She nods and start to walk in the direction he’s indicated. The two soldiers quickly take their place on either side of her to escort her to her cage. 

The two soldiers take her to a large cage near the center of the camp. Three other soldiers are already there standing guard, two men and one woman. The woman looks to be the one in-charge. There are also four wizards standing at the side, watching the whole procession. The cage itself is designed to be pulled by a team of horses with wheels built on the sides. One of the soldiers, the one in-charge, opens the cage. Lauranna quietly enter and the soldier lock the door behind her. As soon as the door closes, the shackles holding her disappear and the cage suddenly hums with arcane energy. She inspects her cage closely. The bars are made of aged oak reinforced with steel. She also notices glowing red runes etched into the wood of the cage. Calima tries to fly through the gap of the bars but is rebuffed and fall to the floor. She hisses in contempt at the cage and quickly climbs to her shoulder.

One of the wizards approaches as she inspects the runes. He looks young and pale. An apprentice perhaps? He eyes her warily. “They are designed to nullify your spells. We know you are a sorceress, so they’re already attuned to your type of magic. There are other enchantments as well, so your little familiar is trapped as much as you are.”

Nullify? Not exactly. More like absorb any form of spell she uses while inside the cage, thereby strengthening the rest of the enchantments. She smiles slyly at the young wizard. “Yes, I can tell. But you should have also etched an inverted version of the runes on the steel reinforcements. That way, it prevents me from using the ambient energies from the runes on the wood to slowly corrode the entire etching. I can also tell that the other enchantments you speak of rely heavily on the runes on the wood, so if I successfully destroy the main enchantment, the rest would also fall apart.”

The young wizard’s eyes widen in alarm. “How—how could you possibly know that?”

“I didn’t. But you confirmed it for me. Besides, I see magic differently from you wizards.” She moves to the center of the cage and sits down, carefully arranging her skirt. The young wizard looks disturbed. She smiles at him reassuringly. “Don’t worry. I won’t try to escape. I came here willingly, didn’t I? You can also confirm what I just told you with Senior Enchanter Colleen, so you can then take necessary actions if you wish.”

The young wizard moves away as the five soldiers move in to surround the cage. He walks towards his fellow wizards to tell them what she said. She didn’t lie to him though. In theory, she could use the ambient energies around the runes on the wood to slowly erode the entire enchantment set on the cage. Yes, the enchantment is currently preventing her from using her own magic, but not from other sources. What she didn’t tell him though is that it would take time to do so. By the time the enchantment is corroded enough, they would have reached the capital already. She chuckles to herself as she sees the other wizards give the cage a worried look.

Suddenly, Senior Enchanter Colleen arrives. The four wizards quickly approach her and they begin to whisper among themselves for a moment. All five then move to surround the cage, one on each side and Colleen overseeing the whole thing. The four raise their hands and begin to chant simultaneously. The runes begin to glow brighter and change from red to white in color. They begin to rearrange. She nods to herself. By rearranging the runes in a specific way, it could lessen, if not eliminate the ambient energies. It also is more effective and less time consuming than etching an inverted version of the runes on the steel reinforcements. But it also creates a weakness in the connection to the rest of the enchantments on the cage. A weakness she can exploit later on should it be necessary. After discovering a disturbing fact about her captors, she needs a backup plan should the need arise.

“What are you doing?” demands a soft, but deep voice.

Colleen stops her inspection and approach the newcomer. “Lord Kristov, we are just making some modifications on the enchantments. There were some variables that we failed to foresee.”

The paladin looks at the cage with worry. “Are you sure about this? What variables are you speaking of?”

“For one, my lord, she’s more powerful than we initially thought. We are merely reinforcing the enchantments.”

Lauranna hides a small smile. As expected, a wizard will never admit that a sorcerer has corrected them on their spell work. The paladin moves towards the cage. On one hand, he’s carrying a plate that has a loaf of bread and a few slices of ham on it and on the other, a jug of what appears to be water. He slides the plate and the jug into the cage to where she can reach it. He speaks in a calm and even tone. “Per your request, my lady. I assume it is enough?”

She tilts her head in thanks. “Thank you, my lord. I truly appreciate your kindness.” She pulls the plate towards her and begins to eat. Calima grabs a piece of the ham and begins to nibble on it.

As the wizards finish their modifications, Kristov turns to one of the guards and hand her a small parchment. He speaks to her in hushed tones. “Miera, follow these instructions to the letter. Next shift will be three hours from now. Give these instructions to the next set of soldiers.”

The soldier salutes. “Yes, my lord.”

The runes begin to settle back on the wood of the cage as the wizards finish their modifications. Kristov turns back to Colleen and hand her another piece of parchment. “Colleen, will two be enough to maintain the enchantment on the cage?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Then take one with you on this shift. The rest can turn in for the night. Allaine and Brall will handle the next shift.”

“As you wish, my lord.” She bows respectfully. The paladin turns back to the cage and looks at her. He looks thoughtful for a moment. He then turns to leave.

Lauranna watches as the paladin returns to his tent not too far off. The Queen of Tethyr is smart indeed to have sent a man like Kristov Jaxxton to apprehend her. This will be far more difficult than she expected. So many things could go wrong. If she miscalculates her steps, she could end up out of the frying pan and into the fire, as they say. But there’s nothing for it now. She finishes her meal and turn in for the night. As she falls asleep, she wonders if the safeguards she’s erected will be enough to protect her.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been really busy lately and I've had less time to spend writing this. Also, had a moment of writer's block. Couldn't figure out how to get from point A to point B. :P  
> For those of you who follow this story, thank you. I hope you like it and are not disappointed. :D

The blazing red sun begins to set in the west as a warm wind blows through the vast plains and rolling hills along the southeastern border of Tethyr, creating dust devils and making the spars grass sway gently in its wake. Slowly, the arid desert landscape starts to turn into grasslands and a few trees could be seen in the horizon. A cougar watches warily atop a small stone outcropping a hundred meters from a backwater road as a small army makes its way through it. The cougar decides to move on elsewhere, seeing as no prey will be found near such a force.

The army consists mostly of Tethyrian infantry and two platoons of archers. Accompanying the army and situated at the rear of the procession is about a hundred or so mercenaries and adventurers, all hired by the crown to secure and deliver a package to the capital. The package is an elven woman who is currently within a large cage being pulled by a team of six massive shire horses. The cage is at the center of the army, surrounded first by a squad of archers and two of the ten mages that are with the army and then, making up the outer ring, a platoon of Tethyrian regulars. Leading the army at the front with the rest of the soldiers is Kristov Jaxxton, a paladin of Tyr and a knight of the realm. He rides atop his black warhorse and is flanked by Councilman Gideon Tarmon and Senior Enchanter Colleen Voltaine, both riding their own mounts. Riding a few feet behind are his three lieutenants, followed by the rest of the mages, the seven priests of Tyr, the rest of the infantry, and then the remaining platoon of archers.

The small army is making good way across the wild lands of southeastern Tethyr. After two relatively uneventful days of marching through the desert, Kristov is feeling optimistic in their chances of reaching the capital undetected. Of course, they have to be careful and stick to the backwater roads which most travelers avoid due to fear of roving bandits and highwaymen. The realm is not as safe as it used to with the civil war still fresh in everyone’s minds. Not to mention the recent troubles with Bhaalspawns rampaging through the countryside, raising armies and killing everything in their path. Most of it has died down due to unknown circumstances, but the once followers have become bandits and highwaymen who prey on refugees fleeing the troubles. Kristov hopes Queen Zaranda is doing something about the chaos that’s still gripping the realm. Once they reach the capital though, he should be able to hear more detailed news on this account. For now, he needs to make sure that they remain undetected. The troubles in Tethyr may have started to die down with the ascension of Queen Zaranda, but he’s sure that there are still those that wish to grab power. All they need is the perfect opportunity.

Despite the journey being relatively uneventful so far, there were a couple of annoyances encountered along the way. For one, the councilman has been insisting in taking a more direct route to the capital, stating that haste is paramount at this point. Odd considering the councilman is usually a patient and careful man. He’s hiding something, but Kristov has yet to squeeze it out of him.

Another point of annoyance is the Bhaalspawn herself. To say that she is charismatic is a massive understatement. Despite his careful planning of her guard rotation, she’s managed to charm most of the soldiers he has set to guard her. Even the female soldiers are falling for her charismatic ways. He’s had to change the guard assignment twice now. Not that the soldiers have attempted to free her, but he has noticed them cordially talking to her and bringing her extra rations or blankets. If she can do this just by talking, he starts to wonder what she can do unshackled.

One good thing though is he can count on the wizards to not fall for her whiles, so he set them in charge of the Bhaalspawn’s guards. Kristov has always preferred diplomacy over heated altercations, but this time he is glad to use the animosity between wizards and sorcerers, especially since it has proven to be quite effective. The guards are no longer allowed to interact with the prisoner. If the Bhaalspawn requires something, the mages will see to them personally. Let’s see her charm her way out of this.

He himself has exchanged words with the Bhaalspawn twice now since her capture and she had a very interesting tale to tell. She claims that the Bhaalspawns should not trouble Tethyr anymore, that she and her companions have taken care of that problem. She also claims that she is no longer a Child of Bhaal, saying that she gave up that power. He is skeptical though because it’s clear to him that she’s hiding something. For one, when asked what happened to her companions, she would only say that they are no longer anybody’s concern. It was her that directed their action, so she should be the one held responsible. As for their whereabouts, she says she doesn’t know exactly. It would seem that she’s telling the truth on this, but Kristov is wise enough to know when a lie is being covered up by the truth. No matter, he will get the truth soon enough. He always does in the end.

Deep in thought, he only now notices the time and decides it is best to set camp soon. There should be a stream ahead after the large hill, a perfect place to camp in. He is about to give the order when he hears Senior Enchanter Colleen. “Kristov, might I have a moment?”

He looks to his left and find the mage examining a ring made out of what seems to be silver and is set with a small rogue stone. The gem’s iridescent features are slightly mesmerizing to his eyes.  “Yes, Colleen, what is it?”

She looks at him and offers up the ring. “This is one of the many magical items we found among the Bhaalspawn’s belongings.”

He takes the ring and examines it closer, noting the minute inscriptions on the inside of the silvery band. “Hmm. She has fine taste in jewelry.”

The wizard’s lips thinned to a line. Colleen does not take well to his jokes despite having known her for so long. She adopts a lecturing tone as she explains. “This ring is heavily enchanted, that much is clear. But what’s troubling is the nature of the enchantment. I have studied all the items we acquired from her and this one caught my eye immediately. The enchantment is a combination of temporal and spatial magic.”

He yawns hoping the mage would take a hint before replying. “And that is troubling why?”

“For one, it is very difficult to meld temporal and spatial magic at this degree. That she is capable of doing so is very troubling.  If indeed she is the one that made this ring, then she is more skilled than we previously thought.”

He grins at her. “Why, Senior Enchanter, are you saying that you and your charges are incapable of handling one sorceress?”

Colleen sighs in exasperation. “I did not say that. You should take this more seriously. This ring could contain a pocket dimension, which means she could be hiding something or someone in the ring in suspended animation. With the right command phrase or perhaps by simply touching the ring in such a way, she could bring that someone or that something out of the pocket dimension in an instant.”

He begins to feel troubled. “How big is this pocket dimension? Will she be able to fit an entire army in it?”

Colleen looks troubled as well. “I don’t know. I do not have the proper tools to conduct a more thorough study. Plus, who knows what trap she has laid on this particular item. I cannot risk studying it here.”

He frowns as he inspects the ring one last time before giving it back to the mage. “Make sure you keep this under lock and key. What else have you found?”

She takes the ring and carefully puts it in a pouch attached to her belt. “There are two more items of interest. First is that ridiculous outfit she was wearing. It is heavily enchanted. The cloth is made from a very rare material, silk from a drider. It is supposedly made by the Drows and given only to their most powerful and influential arcanists. I’ve only read about it, so this is the first time I’m actually seeing it. Upon closer inspection, I have found that the silver embroidery is actually spun from a silver dragon’s scales. How it was done so finely and intricately, I do not know. I deduce that the ‘robe’ not only improves the flow of magic around her, it also offers significant protection and mobility. Plus, I don’t know why, but I have a suspicion that it is merely a part of a whole. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but it seems to have a piece missing. In any case, another item of note is her dagger…”

He lets Colleen drone on as he scans the horizon. They’re currently nearing the base of a large hill. Something’s not right. The air seems stale and there is an unnatural chill around them. Plus, the scouts he sent ahead should have come back by now. He notices Gideon suddenly look up the hill. He follows the old man’s line of sight and sees someone mounted atop the hill. He doesn’t recognize the figure. He orders a halt and turns to Colleen who is looking at the figure on top of the hill. “Take the rest of your charges and go to the cage. You know what to do.”

Colleen turns to him. “Who is it?”

“I don’t know, but we have to be ready. Go.” Colleen gives a curt nod. She quickly turns her mount back to the cage. Kristov then turns to one of his lieutenants. “Dorn, go with her. You have command of the soldiers there and bring word to the mercenaries. Tell them to be ready for anything from behind. The rest of you, take your positions.” His soldiers move with discipline into a pre-determined formation. He can hear his lieutenants barking orders as the soldiers move to surround the cage. Gideon is still looking intently at the figure on top of the hill. “Councilman, you had best get back with Colleen to the cage.”

The old man doesn’t make a move. “I am right where I need to be, Lord Jaxxton. I have a feeling you’ll need me here.” Kristov turns his gaze back at the stranger, who is now quickly descending the hill and moving towards them. He readies himself as he patiently waits for the figure to arrive.

As the figure moves closer, he can finally see details. The figure looks like a bandit, unkempt and rough. The hooded cloak he’s wearing is frayed at the edges and has patches all over it. Under the cloak, Kristov could see a mail shirt under a rough leather coat. His sword looks well-made though and the bow strapped to his back looks well cared for. His face is covered by a dark cloth and he seems to be carrying a small rough sack. The figure slows down and stops a few meters in front of them. He removes his mask, revealing a dark and scarred face with an unkempt beard. He gives them a nasty sneer and a hint of mockery taints his voice as he speaks. “You and your small army will go no further.”

Kristov makes his voice loud and commanding. “And who wishes to stop us?”

The sneering scout opens his mouth to answer, but is beaten by the old councilman beside Kristov. “Interesting. You are under the command of Duke Valtek Volderan. Tell me, is he with you? I would very much like to speak with the duke.”

The scout’s eyes widen in anger and surprise. Kristov himself is a little surprised at the councilman’s words. Lord Volderan? Reports say the madman died years ago at the hands of his own soldiers who revolted. Plus, they have had limited contact with anyone when they set out on their task in order to avoid discovery. How did Duke Volderan know where to find them? Did he intercept the messages the councilman sent to the capital? He turns back to the scout. “Tell Duke Volderan that we are under orders from Queen Zaranda herself to deliver a package to the capital. If he wishes to earn the favor of our new queen, then he should help by escorting us to the capital.”

The man spits before speaking. “You mean that bitch usurper sitting on the throne? No, we don’t answer to that thieving whore. King Volderan is the rightful ruler of Tethyr. He is a godchild, a spawn of Bhaal. All of you should swear allegiance to him! Surrender now and hand over whatever package that whore has you retrieving. If you don’t, then he will swallow you whole and spit out your bones!”

Kristov hears the councilman mumbling to himself. “A Bhaalspawn, interesting.”

He doesn’t really believe all this bullshit, does he? He scowls at the man in front of them. “No. If Duke Volderan wishes to negotiate our surrender, he will do so face to face and not hide behind his men like a coward.”

The man spits once more. His mouth widens in a sneer and madness fills his eyes. “Then you will die!” He takes the rough sack he’s carrying and throws it on the ground in front of them as he turns to ride up the hill. The contents of the sack upends on the ground. So that’s what happened to his scouts. He climbs down from his horse to retrieve the heads of his soldiers. They can bury it later properly once all this is over.

The councilman is scowling as he watches the rider go. “Hmm. Duke Valtek Volderan should be dead. I have detailed reports on it. I wonder how he survived his soldier’s uprising. More importantly, a Bhaalspawn?”

Kristov scoffs at the councilman’s words. “You really believe that Valtek is a Bhaalspawn? It is more likely that he is using recent events to gather vagabonds and bandits to his side, promising money and power if they fight for him. As for his resurrection, remember that we live in an age of wonder where such things are not unheard of and are actually commonplace. One of his loyalists probably hired a priest.”

The councilman is still thoughtful as Kristov remounts his horse, rough sack in tow. “Bhaalspawn or not, it is still troubling how they found us. Who could have informed them?”

Kristov turns back towards his soldiers and the councilman follows. “We can find that out later. For now, we should get ready.”

The councilman nods in agreement. “Yes, I agree. But we should at least try and reason with the duke. Perhaps we can find out who informed him of our task and location.”

Kristov scoffs at the councilman. “If I remember correctly, Lord Valtek was a madman who was beyond reason. It is more likely that he will attack us than negotiate.” Then Kristov remembers something. He looks back at the councilman. “How did you know he’s one of Valtek’s men?”

The councilman is already deep in thought and answers in an offhand manner. “I didn’t. I made an educated guess upon seeing that his sword bore the mark of House Volderan, an eagle soaring among clouds. That sword is only given to Valtek’s most trusted soldiers.”

As Kristov approach his men to give orders, he wonders how the councilman was able to see such detail on the man’s sword despite the fact that it was partially covered by his cloak. He puts it out of his mind deciding there are more important matters at hand.

 

* * *

 

Kristov sits on his horse, calmly waiting for the first signs of attack. The sun is nearly set beyond the horizon and the soldiers and his lieutenants are tense. They have no idea of the enemy numbers and fighting in the dark will not help at all. The hired adventurers, on the other hand, are eager despite the uncertainty. Kristov hopes they will stick to the plan. The mages have their orders. Should the battle go poorly, they will teleport themselves and a few soldiers along with their package to a safe and predetermined location. They will then move on to the capital with as much haste as possible with Colleen leading them. Every step has been planned, including contingencies should the worst come. He will do his duty to his queen and the realm.

Then he hears it. It’s faint at first, but distinguishable to his hearing. Off to their right, the thundering of galloping horses. The same sound could be heard to their left as well. It is as he anticipated. Valtek will try to surround them. He could see legions of cavalry coming from behind the large hill moving in to surround them. From atop the hill, he could see a sea of footmen and archers in undisciplined and disjointed ranks. By his calculation, his army is outnumbered four to one.

He anticipated this. Their numbers are greater, but it seems they consist mostly of brigands and highwaymen, undisciplined and unused to facing trained soldiers. The footmen make their way down the hill, running and screaming in an almost insane rage. Some even fall and are trampled by their fellows.

He signals to his lieutenants. Upon seeing, they begin to bark a series of orders to the men under them. Everything has been planned, hastily but planned nonetheless. The soldiers close ranks, the front forming a wall of shield and pikes protecting the archers from behind. He could hear the priest begin chanting their spell and a faint, shimmering dome of light envelopes his small army as the archers begin to fire a stream of arrows at the incoming onslaught from the hill.

The arrows begin to fall among the disjointed ranks of footmen and archers. Many fall as the first volley slams into the horde. Their archers begin to fire back, but the barrier of shimmering light stops most of them in midair. The few that make it through fall uselessly among the raised shields. The riders from the sides begin to close in though, coming closer and closer…to a trap. A wall of flame suddenly erupts from the ground as the first riders attempting to surround them come within a few hundred yards, engulfing those that are not quick enough to stop in their tracks. A few made it through the perimeter through a few gaps in the fiery wall, but this is part of the plan. This will slow their advance and allow only a trickle through, making it easier for the mercenaries. While the soldiers maintain a solid wall, the mercenaries are tasked to attack in groups of five or six. Consisting mostly of adventuring parties, the mercenaries are excellent irregulars. Their task is to assault those that manage to get through the wall of flame, making sure to fall back to the shield wall if ever they are overwhelmed. It helps a lot that some of the mercenaries are priests, who could act as field medics, and mages, who could sow chaos within the ranks of the incoming force. They are proving very effective. Working in teams, they begin to dismantle the cavalry who are too disjointed and confused to form another running charge. The mages within the mercenary groups are using the already existing flames surrounding his army to spread fire among the confused cavalry, causing even more chaos.

As the first few footmen slam into his shield wall, Kristov begins to wonder. Is this it? Yes, their numbers are many, but they are too disjointed. Their men are not forming a solid enough line to break through his defenses. Also, the feeling of dread he felt before is stronger now. As he slices off a man’s head from horseback, he finally realizes the source of his uneasiness. He looks closer at the enemy soldiers. Some of them have glassy eyes that are filled with hate and bloodlust. Then he notices something else. Some of those soldiers are rising even after receiving a lethal blow. He looks up the hill in horror as the soldiers that fell to the arrows before are now rising to begin their attack anew. They are dealing with a necromancer. He moves back into his shield wall and calls for one of his lieutenant. “Dorn, to me!”

His lieutenant rides to his side upon hearing his call. “My lord, there is trouble. The men and I have noticed some of their dead rising. We are dealing with a necromancer.”

He looks flatly at his lieutenant. “Yes, I noticed. Spread the word, especially to the mercenaries.”

A voice from his other side replies before his lieutenant could make a move. “We already know.” Kristov turns and is greeted by a bloodied sight. A lightly armored, dark skinned fellow with a shaved head is half carrying a severely wounded soldier from the field. Kristov could see part of the soldier’s innards hanging out. The mercenary places the soldier on the ground as one of the priest move in to begin healing the soldier. Kristov patiently waits as the mercenary takes a few moments to catch his breath.  After doing so, the man straightens up and salutes him with fist to chest. “My lord, I already felt something amiss from the start, like a cold air running up and down my spine. When the battle started, we began to notice some of the enemy rose back up even after a fatal blow. We began to spread word. Some of our mages have already pulled back from the fighting and are trying to scry the location of that necromancer. We also think that some of these men are already undead to begin with. Perhaps that’s what I and a few of the priests have been sensing before.”

Kristov nods at the mercenary. He should have felt this sooner. Undead. He turns to his lieutenant. “Dorn, tell Colleen that should things turn sideways, she knows what to do.” Dorn nods in understanding. He salutes and gallops back to where Colleen and the rest of the mages are located. Kristov turns back to the mercenary. “You, what’s your name?”

The mercenary salutes him with respect. “I am Darvin Telorene, paladin of Ilmater.”

Kristov is a little surprised that a paladin of The Broken God is here but is thankful nonetheless. He will do nicely for the plan he is currently formulating. “Is your company near, Sir Darvin?”

The dark skinned paladin nods. “Yes. My companions are currently resting. We were surrounded and had only just escaped recently from our predicament. Claude here is one of my companions.” He points to the priest attending to the wounded soldier.

Kristov quickly goes over the plan he has formulated before speaking. “Good. As soon as those mages discover the location of that necromancer, you will take your party along with two of my priests and kill that necromancer. Now go and inform Dorn of my plan so he can assign the priests to you. Inform Senior Enchanter Colleen as well. She should be where Dorn is now. Tell her she will be needed for this plan to work.”

Darvin nodded and smiled in acceptance of the burden Kristov placed on him. He salutes once more before going back to find Dorn. Paladin of Ilmater indeed. He goes back to inspect his shield wall. Blessedly, it’s still holding despite the new horror it faces. He surveys the battlefield. It’s already dark and the only light source is the fiery wall his mages erected around his army and a strange soft glow coming from the other side of the large hill. He briefly wonders where that faint light is coming from. He also finally notices what Darvin meant. Yes, some of those men are indeed already undead. There’s a faint shimmering about them. So that’s why his senses were dulled. He should have detected the presence of undead easily enough, but the necromancer must have created an enchantment to mask their dark presence. That necromancer must be really powerful to have done this for their entire army. It’s not perfect, but it did the job.

 He’s about to go back out into the fray when out of the commotion, he hears his name being called. “Lord Kristov! My Lord!”

A young lad is running towards him at breakneck speed. He looks to be one of the mercenaries. The young man stops in front of him catching his breath for a few moments. “What is it? Who are you?”

The young man looks up, still out of breath. “Sir, I’m one of the mages that were scrying for that necromancer.”

The lad is still a little out of breath, so Kristov maintains his patience. “Go on.”

The boy points towards the large hill. “The necromancer is somewhere beyond the hill and we believe he or she is coming closer.”

Kristov’s eyes widen in alarm as he feels a familiar chill. It’s been so long, but he will never forget this feeling. He grabs the boy by the collar of his shirt. “Go back to other mages and tell them to do whatever they can to shore up our defenses and whittle down as much of the enemy forces as they can as soon as possible. Go!” As the boy runs back at breakneck speed, Kristov looks towards the large hill. His eyes widen in horror as his worst fear is confirmed. Two figures crest the hill. One of them is hooded and is riding a white horse. The other, the larger one and the source of his dread, is being carried by a massive nightmare and is clad in heavy crimson armor. Even at this distance, Kristov could feel the wave of evil the figure is radiating. How did he not notice this before? “A necromancer? Bullshit. That’s a fucking death knight.”

 

* * *

 

 

Chaos, men dying, men screaming, blood everywhere, limbs torn, torsos cleaved open, head split in half, all of it familiar to Lauranna. She’s been in a battlefield before. She didn’t like it then. She doesn’t like it now. She takes a moment to admire those veteran soldiers that don’t flinch at the sight she is seeing right now. She will never get used to seeing the chaos of a battlefield, the blood, the death, the gore. She sighs at the irony. She’s been working so long to get away from situations like this, working to, perhaps, one day have a peaceful life.  But here she is, in the thick of it once again. When will it be over?

_It will never be over! We were born soaked in blood! We will die drowning in it! Glorious!_

Calima is lying on her lap, quivering. She’s scared. Like her, she never liked being in a battlefield. Lauranna tries to comfort her as best as she can, but to no avail. She can’t blame her. She’s anxious as well. The appearance of this army is strange. By all accounts, Kristov has taken great care to hide their whereabouts and their purpose. According to the soldiers she’s interrogated, the army has been travelling through backwater roads and even trailblazing at times in order to avoid detection. Their mission is—or was a secret. The only other person who knows of this is the Queen, herself. There are a lot of possibilities really, such as spies within the army or any one of the merchants that they encountered in the desert. No one can hide an army of this size no matter how careful they are.

But really, the more likely suspect is Gideon, the supposed council to the Queen and King of Tethyr. Aside from their first meeting, it hasn’t really spoken to her or made any other attempts at peering through her mind again. Perhaps waiting to catch her off guard? Lauranna’s not really sure. She is a little curious. What is it doing here? What does it want with her? This is partially the reason why she hasn’t revealed its secret to anybody yet. The other part is she doesn’t know how many soldiers are already under its control. She has to be careful with this information.

Out of the chaos surrounding Lauranna, she suddenly hears an argument break out outside her cage. She cracks open her eyes and see Dorn, one of Kristov’s lieutenants, arguing with Senior Enchanter Colleen. She starts to eavesdrop on the argument without being obvious.

Dorn sounds a little annoyed as he speaks with the mage. “This is an order from Lord Jaxxton himself. If the battle goes poorly, you and your charges are to teleport away with the prisoner.”

The mage replies in an icy tone. “I know it is an order from him, but I have decided to ignore it nonetheless.”

Dorn seems to have crossed the threshold from being annoyed to furious at the mage’s tone. “Queen Zaranda placed Kristov in charge! You swore to follow his orders!”

“You must have misheard me, Dorn. I swore to keep that boy alive. I will be breaking that oath if I abandon him now. Plus, it is dangerous to teleport the cage out of here. The spell could damage the cage and disrupt the enchantments on it. We cannot risk our prisoner escaping.”

“Then do away with the cage and bind her like before!”

Colleen is about to reply but abruptly stops upon noticing a large figure behind Dorn. “Who are you?”

Dorn steps aside to see who’s behind him. A bald man with dark skin steps forward to introduce himself. “My lady, I am Darvin Telorene, a paladin of Ilmater and currently one of your mercenaries.” He bows respectfully to Colleen.

Before Colleen could speak, Dorn addresses the newcomer. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be out there doing your job?” Dorn sounds a little annoyed at Darvin for interrupting the argument.

The paladin replies calmly. “Yes, but Sir Kristov bade me to inform you of his plans for the necromancer. I and my companions have been tasked to take down the necromancer as soon it is located. He also said we will be taking two of your priests.”

Dorn looks at the paladin in incredulity. “And how does he propose you do this? Has he forgotten we are almost surrounded?”

The paladin shrugs. “I do not know, but he also asked to inform Lady Colleen and says that she is crucial for this plan to work.”

Colleen sighs. “That boy will run me ragged.” She points to the paladin and adopts a stern voice. “You. I’m guessing you have four other companions?”

“Yes, my lady.”

“Then gather them quickly while I prepare the spell.” Darvin salutes the mage and turns to go look for his companions. Colleen then points at Dorn. “And you, inform the priests. I suggest assigning Gladstone and Balwert. They’ve had a lot of experience fighting undead.”

“Colleen, this—“

This time Colleen no longer sounds like a lecturing mother, but more like a mother who discovered her children has tracked mud all over the freshly cleaned floor of her house. “No! My decision is final! We will not abandon the fight! We will not let some second rate conjurer drive us away! You will go to the priests now and inform them of the plan or so help me I will turn you into a gerbil!”

To his credit, Dorn only flinched a little at the tirade. He’s about to argue back, but Kristov himself suddenly makes an appearance atop his mighty stead. Lauranna takes a closer look at the paladin and is a little surprised to find fear in his eyes. He looks at his lieutenant and the mage. “Where’s Darvin?”

Colleen replies before Dorn could speak. “I’ve already sent him to gather his companions. Let me take this moment to warn you. Once I teleport them there—”

Kristov interrupts the mage. “We are dealing with a death knight, not a mere necromancer.”

Dorn’s eyes widen in shock. Colleen merely frowns and nods in understanding. “Yes. This explains why most of the undead are well made. But how was it able to mask their presence so effectively?”

Kristov interrupts here musings. “Collene, we can talk about the hows later. Right now, we need to destroy it.”

The mage looks up at the paladin. “Of course, of course. But a death knight is not something we can easily kill. There’s a high chance that even your skills won’t have much effect.”

But Kristov is not deterred. He merely nods with a determined look on his face. “Then we do it the old fashioned way. How many can you teleport?”

“I can send up to ten, but I believe four is enough.  You, me, Dorn, and a priest will do.”

Kristov shakes his head in disagreement. “No. I need you and Dorn here in case everything goes south. You will be sending me and Darvin along with his companions. If you see me fall, you have your orders.”

Both Colleen and Dorn begin to argue, but with one look, Kristov silences them. “We knew this would be dangerous, yet we swore we would do our utmost to fulfill her majesty’s will nonetheless. We will not fail her. Am I understood?”

Colleen sighs in defeat. “Stubborn as always.” She walks away to begin preparations for the spell.

But Dorn doesn’t make any move. He looks at his commander with intensity. He says something Lauranna couldn’t hear. Kristov dismounts and approach his lieutenant. He removes his helmet and to Lauranna’s great surprise, Kristov suddenly kisses Dorn rather passionately. Her shock dissipates quickly though. It’s surprising and also quite beautiful to see such a tender and intimate moment amidst all this chaos and death. After what seemed like an eternity, Kristov surfaces, breathing in deeply. He whispers something to Dorn that she could not hear. So that’s why her attempts at charming Kristov failed miserably. She’s been using the wrong tactics. And all this time she thought he just took his oath to Tyr very seriously. She needs to be more aware of these things. It’s really quite embarrassing.

But her embarrassment can wait. If she can persuade them to free her, she actually has a plan that could save them all. She slowly gets up. She walks up towards the bars of her cage. She calls to Kristov, but this time, in her more normal conversational voice. “My lord, I apologize for interrupting an intimate moment, but I must speak with you.”

Kristov whispers final reassurances to his lover before turning and walking towards her. “What do you want?” He said coldly.

She sits back down. “I want to offer you some assistance.” Kristov looks at her. But instead of distrust, he actually has curiosity in his eyes. She goes on, intending to ride the momentum. “I may not be as strong as I used to be, but I believe I can be of great use to you in battling that death knight.”

Kristov raises an eyebrow. “You have experience fighting a death knight?”

“Well, no.” She answers sheepishly. “But do not forget that I am a sorceress. I also own a few magical items that could be of use. I believe one of them was already shown to you.” Kristov nods in understanding. Good. Colleen figured out the use of the rogue stone ring. “Well, I have a plan, if you would permit me to speak of it to you.”

Kristov looks at her, distrust back in his eyes. “I don’t trust you.”

She lets a little exasperation tinge her voice. “Why? I have been nothing but cooperative.”

Kristov raises an eyebrow. “Oh, have you?”

She scoffs at him. “If you are referring to my interrogation of your soldiers, I was merely getting the lay of the land and perhaps get an extra blanket or two. You haven’t exactly dressed me for cold nights in the desert, my lord.” Kristov still has distrust in his eyes. She looks back at him intently. “I swear to you, I was not planning on escaping. And right now, you need all the help you can get. Please, let me help.”

Kristov takes a moment to consider her offer. He looks around at the chaos surrounding them. A lot of his soldiers are falling. The priests can only do so much. This has to end. He has to let her help. After a few minutes, Kristov looks back at her. “Despite a few annoyances, you have been quite cooperative. I will agree to hear out this plan of yours and decide after if it is worth doing.”

Lauranna sighs visibly. Good. At least he will listen to her plan. She beckons him closer. Kristov moves in warily. She begins to whisper her plan to him, hoping that he will agree to it.

 

* * *

 

Gideon and the others watch as Lauranna chants a spell while sitting on the ground in front of her cage. He recognizes the spell she’s chanting. He could also see the arcane energies swirling around the young elf as she chants the words of power. Her weaving is breathtaking, the way the arcane energies twist and flow at her command. The girl is skilled, very skilled. He has seen sorcerers cast spells before, but not like this. They are children compared to her sophistication, mastery, and grace.

Kristov, Darvin, and Darvin’s companions to his right all watch intently despite the fact that only two of them are able to see the intricacies of her weaving. He looks to his left and see awe in the eyes of Senior Enchanter Colleen. He chuckles softly. Only moments ago, she had been opposed to everything, even going so far as to slap Kristov in the face for even suggesting Lauranna’s plan. But in the end, Kristov stubbornness won the day. And here they are.

He himself actually agreed to the plan almost immediately when they were discussing it. He wants to see Lauranna in action. He’s been going on second hand reports and whispered rumors up till now. He wants to see the real thing. So far, he is not disappointed. But he already knew that he wouldn’t be. Their first meeting is a testament to that.

All it took was a slight touch on her mind and a barrier was erected just like that. A barrier made from the most joyous of memories to the most depressing ones, from an unbridled feeling of euphoria to the most agonizing pain, all of it jumbled into a heaping mass that prevented him from seeing her thoughts. He nearly lost himself in the sea of jumbled and disjointed memories, feeling the most extreme emotions one after the other in rapid succession. It took all of his experience and skill to pull back at the last second. He would have lost his mind otherwise. He didn’t make any other attempts after that. He didn’t even attempt to talk to her normally for fear that she might reveal his secret.

He wonders though why she hasn’t yet. He was a nervous wreck the night he first met her. There is no doubt that she already knows what he is. But why is she keeping his secret? Curiosity perhaps? He will know soon enough, provided they can get out of their current predicament alive.

He looks around as Lauranna finishes her spell. The soldiers are still holding, but barely. Kristov’s lieutenants, including Dorn, are doing their best but there is only so much they can do. He could hear fewer and fewer explosions. That means the mages are exhausted. They’ve been maintaining the wall of fire all this time, while offering support fire whenever and wherever it is needed. More and more mercenaries have retreated within the protection of the shield wall and only a handful are still left outside trying in vain to hold back the tide of madness. The priests are exhausted. Their barrier is waning and more soldiers and mercenaries join the dead. He hopes this plan works. Otherwise, he will be forced to make his move and reveal himself. He may be able to salvage the situation if it ever came to that, but it will be almost impossible.

Then he feels it, a ripple in time and reality. Most wouldn’t be able to sense this wave of wrongness, but he could. Years of experience have taught him. He looks at where Lauranna should still be sitting but finds nothing. The images of Kristov, along with Darvin and his companions slowly dissipate. He hears Colleen sigh beside him. “Let us hope this gamble pays off and not blow up in our faces.”

Gideon watches as Colleen walks back toward where the other mages are to join them in supporting the line of soldiers and shoring up their magical defenses. He looks up to the top of the hill and sees a desperate battle unfold, a massive explosion spreading fire and death. “I hope so too,” he whispered to himself.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! :P

*pit* *pat* *pit* *pat*

Safe. There’s an odd feeling of safety in being chained, in being bound.

*pit* *pat* *pit* *pat*

She’s kneeling on a pool of her own blood. Blood that drips from the multitude of wounds she has on her body courtesy of the barbed chains that currently has her in their tight embrace, holding her up in a sitting but slumped position with arms raised to her side.

*pit* *pat* *pit* *pat*

White light seems to emanate from everywhere within this white expanse. It’s sad to her that such a pristine place should be marred by something as horrible and bloody as she.

*pit* *pat* *pit* *pat*

She feels weak, unable even to lift her head. But it’s okay, as long as she’s safe. As long as she’s bound. The spikes driven deep within her flesh feels painful whenever she would try to move, but she’s grown used to it. To her, they are an assurance that she’s safe. This is good pain. Pain she is willing to endure, as long as it means she’s safe.

*pit* *pat* *pit* *pat*

All of a sudden, a shadow looms above her and she hears a harsh and deep voice. The voice caresses her very being, her very soul. “Would you like to get rid of those chains?”

*pit* *pat* *pit* *pat*

What? No. That’s not right. These chains are here for a reason. They keep her safe. She doesn’t look up at the figure in front of her. She shakes her head, ignoring the pain it causes her.

*pit* *pat* *pit* *pat*

“Come now,” the voice implores lovingly, “they’re stifling and a bother. Wouldn’t you like to get rid of them?”

*pit* *pat* *pit* *pat*

She tries to reply, but only manages a soft croak. The chains are not a bother at all. They’re safety.

*pit* *pat* *pit* *pat*

The voice giggles. “Let me help you. There’s no need to be afraid.” The shadow moves in closer. She slowly lifts her head to look up at the one speaking.

*pit* *pat* *pit* *pat*

A deep dread washes over her as she finally sees it, a creature of deepest shadow with eyes aflame stands before her, offering a shadowed hand. Shadowy tendrils emanate from it, marring further the pristine whiteness of their surrounding. Occasionally, violent crimson would surface on the deep darkness of its body, as if the shadows are hiding something more sinister. This thing, this creature should be feared. And she does. Deeply.

*thump* * thump * * thump * * thump *

The figure smiles a crooked smile, intending for it to be reassuring. “Take my hand and the chains will go away. There’s no need to stay here any longer. The darkness is gone.”

*thump* * thump * * thump * * thump *

“No!” she croaks in fear. “I don’t want to be free! I want to be chained. It’s safer that way.”

*thump* * thump * * thump * * thump *

The creature’s smile disappears. The eyes once aflame with anticipation are now filled with disappointment and rage. More crimson starts to surface from the shadowy surface of its body. “I knew I shouldn’t have approached you first. Out of the five of us, you are the one that she wants to hide the most.” The figure spits in disgust.

*pit* *pat* *pit* *pat*

She hangs her head back down. Yes, she should hide. That sounds right. She hears the figure start to walk away, the sound of chains dragging distinct to her hearing. Odd, the figure didn’t look like she was wrapped in chains like her.

*pit* *pat* *pit* *pat*

“Hmm, maybe SHE would be more malleable. Yes, yes, I see now. I should have approached her first. She’ll want to get out.” That horrible voice starts to giggle in anticipation.

*pit* *pat* *pit* *pat*

She sighs in relief, relief in the thought that the creature has decided to move on. She closes her eyes once again, determined to stay as she is. She doesn’t need to be let out. It’s safer here.

*pit* *pat* *pit* *pat*

She starts to drift off once again, listening to her own blood drip on the floor.

*pit* *pat* *pit* *pat*

Suddenly, she feels the chains holding her being violently yanked upwards, bringing her to her feet.

*thump* * thump * * thump * * thump *

She screams in fear. “No! Please, stop!”

*thump* * thump * * thump * * thump *

The creature is back. The shadows on its body now barely able to contain the violent crimson within. Its eyes glow in a malevolent way as it looks deep into her eyes.

*thump* * thump * * thump * * thump *

Blood pumped furiously through her veins and out her wounds, bathing the floor further with the dark sticky liquid.

*thump* * thump * * thump * * thump *

The dark figure looks deep into her soul, eyes aflame with rage and fury hot enough to sear flesh.

*thump* * thump * * thump * * thump *

She tries to look away, but the figure yanked the chains holding her, making her look into its eyes.

*thump* * thump * * thump * * thump *

“I will be back and I will break these chains and free you whether you want to or not. And then, we’re going to have fun.” The dark figure flashes her one last sick smile before letting go of the chains, dropping her into a bloody heap on the floor.

*thump* * thump * * thump * * thump *

She feels her heart pound at the thought of being freed. Crippling fear wash over her as mental images run through her broken mind. No! It must not happen! She must remain chained! She must be safe!

*thump* * thump * * thump * * thump *

She begins to cry and scream in fear as the dark figure walk away, laughing uproariously and maniacally.

 

* * *

 

 

Lauranna starts awake, heart pounding. She sighs and starts to rub her temples. What was that? She could still hear the strange laughter and somehow remember the sensation of…fear. The dream is already starting to fade from her mind. She’s been having odd dreams lately. She can’t remember most of them, but they always seem to leave an odd sensation when she wakens. They don’t fade completely though. They leave behind disturbing, but incomplete images in her mind. Images that she feels are significant, but she’s not sure how or in what way. It’s not like from before when she was still a Bhaalspawn. Those dreams were vivid and did not flee upon waking. And they were always clear to her on their meaning. These recent ones, though, are like fireflies. You think you’ve finally caught one and then they just slip through your fingers and zip away.

She sighs and lean back on the cave wall, closing her eyes. She takes a few moments before opening them again to look around at her surroundings. She’s still in this small and dank cave she appropriated last night from some roving bandits. She chuckled. They were kind enough to leave behind a few things she might need.

The faint light of dawn is already shining through the thick vines covering the cave entrance, dotting the inside of the cave in pinpricks of light. The early morning air feels cold and crisp. And damp. The fire she started last night has already died out, leaving behind ashes that are still faintly smoking.

She looks at the sleeping figure covered with a thick cloak on the other side of the burnt out camp fire, his chest faintly rising and falling. Good. He’s still alive. She feared he wouldn’t be able to make it through the night, with that massive wound on his belly. He’s tough.

She slowly and quietly gets up, knuckling the small of her back and stretching her sore arms and legs. She also pulls at her uncomfortable dress, arranging them as best as she could to lessen the effect of the itchy fabric. Why she didn’t appropriate one of the bandits’ clothing is beyond her, but she’s regretting the oversight now.

Once satisfied, she stalks to the cave entrance, pausing long enough to check on her magical wards. Once she’s sure that it’s still up and undisturbed, she peeks out. She cautiously looks around while listening. She could hear the calls of birds echo through the forest. Bars of early morning light hit the small stream in front of the cave making it sparkle. The water looks enticing. She hasn’t had a drink since before the battle last night. She takes another cautious look around before succumbing to her urges. She slowly exits the cave. She takes the few steps towards the small stream and kneels down to take a drink, all the while trying to watch every direction.

Odd. Why is she so cautious? Her magical wards remain undisturbed and she doesn’t seem to sense any immediate danger around her. Why does she feel so skittish though, like an animal being hunted? She gets up from drinking for a moment. She closes her eyes and takes a few deep breathes to calm her nerves. “There, that’s better.” She goes back to drinking water, feeling a lot calmer. She must still be feeling the effects of last night’s disastrous battle. It was disastrous for sure, but something else about it deeply bothered her. She can’t seem to remember a part of it, just like with the fight with Saemon.

During her recent captivity, she’s had time to think about that particular oddity. She’s been trying to remember what happened that night. One moment she was facing off with Saemon and the two dune stalkers he summoned. The next, Saemon’s broken body was in front of her, with her having no memory of how she got to that situation. At first she panicked a little, remembering the murdering rages she used to have as a Bhaalspawn. For the better part, she managed to keep her rages in check through sheer force of will. But there were times that she lost control, times where she could no longer hold her emotions in check and she just lashed out without knowing. But that was different because she didn’t have memory loss back then. She could still remember everything she did when she lost control. Granted it was through a red haze, but the memory was there. No blanks to fill like the recent oddities.

She sighs and thinks for a moment on how to deal with this. She gets an idea, but decides to finish cleaning herself up first. She begins to wash her face thoroughly. She rips off part of her frayed dress and uses it to wipe her face clean. Well, as clean as she can get it anyways. She then takes one last drink before getting up and going back into the cave. Once inside, she checks on her charge, making sure that his injuries aren’t getting any worse. She’s done what she can for him last night. She may not be a healer, but Jaheira taught her well enough in dressing wounds. She silently wishes that what she’s about to do can shed some light into her lost memories of last night and not cause him more damage. Maybe his memories can offer her some insight into this mess.

She makes herself comfortable beside the sleeping figure. She checks on her wards again, just to be sure, before starting. She takes a few deep breathes and dives back into her memories of last night, but not only her memories. She reaches into Kristov’s memories as well. She melds both her memories and that of Kristov, creating a picture for her to examine mentally. She does it as delicately as she can. Working with someone else’s memory is tricky. Melding two memories to create a better picture is even trickier.

Images begin to form, images of death and destruction, images of broken bodies on the ground, bodies that have been disemboweled, bodies with limbs missing. Blood soaks the ground making it muddy and almost impossible to walk in. The faces of the desperate as they fight an impossible battle are suddenly clear in her mind.

 

* * *

 

 

She’s in the thick of it again. Screams of the dying and the desperate and screams of rage from the living, once distant, are now clear to her ears. The air is thick with dread and the stench of blood, as she chants the words of power for the spell she’s weaving. The energies she has summoned cascades around her, slowly flowing into a pattern of her design. She needs to hurry and finish weaving this spell. A lot of lives depend on her right now. This has to work. Her plan has to work. To err is unacceptable.

She feels the eyes of those surrounding her. She feels the judgment within them. She ignores it and instead focus on her spell. They don’t trust her. She understands this. But they have no choice at the moment. Their option is limited. It’s time to prove herself to them. Prove that she’s not the murderer they all think she is.

The chaotic energies around her starts to settle into the spell she is weaving. She can finally feel the telltale signs of time slowing down to halt. And then as the last few strays of magic settle, she feels a ripple as temporal magic begin to encompass the entire battlefield. Everything and everyone are suddenly frozen in time; the faces of the soldiers contorted in fear or anger, weapons in mid swing, balls of fire or jagged bolts of lightning midway from their intended victims.

As soon as the spell is complete, she doesn’t waste time. She quickly races through the soldiers and the undead. She weaves her way through the two clashing armies, ignoring the stench of blood, and makes her way up the large hill. It’s hard considering she doesn’t have the gear she is used to, so her current itchy attire keeps snagging on the shrubbery along the way. She needs to hurry. Her spell will only last for so long. She no longer has Bhaal’s essence to empower her spells and make them last longer or be more effective.

She gets to the top of the hill in time. Everything is as she expected. Well, not exactly, but basically what she expected. Behind the large hill is a massive crystal orb sitting on an ornate and wheeled platform. Bound to the crystal orb are four liches that are chanting continuously. The liches are bound via scrolls filled with words of power that wraps around the crystal orb. The orb is not wrapped up completely, just enough to magically bind the four liches to the orb. The crystal itself is glowing with a faint green light, as the liches chant in what sounds like ancient Netherese language. She knows that no necromancer or any death knight is powerful enough to control this much undead at one time. They would be using a powerful artifact and she’s right. She doesn’t have time for a closer inspection though. Her spell is fading and she needs to be in position.

Just as she’s getting into position some ways behind her targets atop the large hill, time starts to flow naturally. She acts fast. Before the death knight and its mysterious companion could react to her, she quickly chants and fires a spell. A massive column of fire slams into her targets. Fire and death explodes all around the area where the two figures are. She feels resistance though. A magical shield seems to have been erected at the last second, protecting the death knight and its companion from her spell. She clicks her tongue in frustration. She wasn’t fast enough. She hears a chilling and deep laughter. A large figure atop a massive nightmare and in red imposing armor moves out of the flames towards her. “Why, Vorenia, it seems our quarry has decided to grace us with her presence.”

A second figure cloaked in black and riding a white mare comes out of the flames. Her face is hidden within a deep cowl. She has a soft and melodious voice when she replies. “Indeed. I thought we’d have to slaughter that small army first, but it seems she’s made it easier for us, Valtek.”

“And here I thought she’d be smarter. I mean, that is what we’ve been hearing so far, correct?”

“Well, one cannot put too much stock in rumors, Valtek. You know that.”

“Indeed. Well, since she is nice enough to serve herself up to us in a silver platter, we might as well finish this, yes? Do be a dear and bind her now. I’ll deal with what’s left of that army down there.” He turns and rides away to face what remained of the small army.

“Of course, Valtek. It’ll be my pleasure.” The woman named Vorenia moves in closer and begins to chant a binding spell.

Lauranna cracks a small smile. “You really think it’ll be that easy?” She quickly rubs the silver ring with the rogue stone on her left hand clockwise as she begins to chant a counter spell. Everything happened at once. Kristov and Darvin suddenly appears out of thin air along with Darvin’s adventuring party; a human cleric named Claude, a diminutive human battlemage named Starla, an older gentleman and wizard named Vaughn, and a halfling shadowdancer named Trixie.

They began to move immediately according to plan. Starla and Vaughn were instructed to look for and destroy the artifact responsible for powering the undead army. They quickly found their quarry and moved in to take care of what little guard it had. The rest would engage the death knight and try to bring it down as quickly as possible, while she took care of the necromancer.

The battle is joined. Vorenia obviously is not expecting reinforcement and is caught by surprise. Lauranna put as much force into her counter spell as she could. She fires a spear of pure arcane energy which not only destroys the binding spell Vorenia is casting, it also explodes spectacularly, unseating her and causing her horse to panic and run away.

Vorenia quickly recovers though and begins to chant another spell, a far deadlier spell than a binding one. This time, Lauranna does not chant a counter spell. Instead, she imposes her will on the weave Vorenia is shaping, trying to shape it into her own spell that would wrap Vorenia in tendrils of pure arcane energy. Vorenia is shocked. She did not think this possible. To her credit, she recovers quickly and a power struggle ensues. Raw arcane energies begin to flail about as the two magical casters mentally struggle to wrest control from one another. Tendrils of arcane energies begin to scour the earth around the two spell weaver, as each try to use raw magical energies to vaporize her opponent. Beads of sweat begin to form on their faces as each one focuses on the struggle at hand. It is a struggle, but a delicate one, one that requires complete focus. One wrong move could spell disaster. For the two, nothing else existed at that moment. Not even the struggles of their companion.

 

* * *

 

While the magical duel is ensuing, Kristov, Darvin, and Trixie rush the death knight, who only now is noticing the ensuing chaos behind him. It moves to charge the attacking group, nightmare screaming in rage. Claude’s faster. He prays to his god and manages to create a divine seal that envelope Valtek. The seal will not hold such a powerful undead long though, but it creates an opening long enough for Kristov and the rest. They quickly butcher the nightmare. The monstrous horse screams in outrage as it begins to turn into ash. Valtek is thrown off and hits the ground hard.

The victory doesn’t last long though. Valtek quickly recovers from the fall and is now brandishing his massive flail in one hand and a tower shield on the other. “Ah, if it isn’t little Kristov come to play. I almost didn’t believe it when my scouts told me who it was leading that army. Tell me, boy, have you finally decided to join your little sister in death? Is that why you’re here, to die screaming in the dark like she did?”

Kristov remains calm despite the taunting and the overwhelming presence the thing has. How did it know of his sister and the circumstances of her death? More surprising though, the thing has Duke Volderan’s voice and manner of speech. When did this happen? No matter, he needs to concentrate or he dies, along with any hope for his men down the hill. He decides to engage the thing in dialogue, hoping to distract it from Darvin’s and Trixie’s movements. “Duke Valtek Volderan, you certainly look spry for an old man. Well, dead man if what I heard was true.”

The thing laughs an inhuman laugh. “Dear boy, death is only the beginning. Besides, haven’t you heard? I’m a godchild. A Bhaalspawn. Divine blood runs through my veins. I cannot die.”

“You honestly think I’d believe that lie? You are no more a Bhaalspawn than my dog. Besides, Bhaal would never have sired such an ugly and pathetic creature such as you. In fact, I believe he would have been embarrassed.”

“Oh! You wound me, boy. It seems you’ve acquired a sharp tongue while I was away. Now, how about we—“

Kristov sees a shadow spring up behind Valtek. Trixie decides she’s heard enough from this blowhard. The little Halfling jumps out of the shadow behind Valtek and attempts to jam her short sword in between Valtek’s massive helmet and chest plate. Darvin also decides to attack at the same time. To everyone’s horrible surprise though, Valtek moves like a viper. He quickly pivots and uses his shoulder plate to block Trixie’s attack. He completes his turn and attempts to slam his massive tower shield into the Halfling while at the same time swing his massive flail at Darvin. Claude quickly chants a spell and blinding light explodes in front of the death knight, giving Trixie enough of a distraction for her to dodge the shield blow. Darvin isn’t as quick to capitalize though, but Kristov quickly moves. Just as Valtek’s flail is about to smash into Darvin, Kristov blocks it with his Katana. Sparks fly as metal hit metal.

No more words are spoken from then on. They attack as one. Valtek parried each and every blow. He was on the defensive, true, but Kristov knew he was only waiting for a chance to make a decisive blow. He hasn’t fought Valtek before, but he’s heard of his fighting style. He hides behind excellent defenses, waiting for his opponent to make a mistake. And when they do, he hits hard and fast, showing no mercy whatsoever.

His battle companions are doing what they can. Claude is supporting, trying to find ways to distract Valtek. But the longer the fight goes on, the less effective his offensive spells are. Right now, all he can do is use defensive spells on them in hopes that when Valtek does land a blow, he’d be able to stave off most of the damage. Looking at the massive flail, Kristov highly doubts it.

Trixie on the other hand is using her speed to her advantage. Using guerilla tactics, she fleets in and out of the shadows, attacking and retreating. But Valtek’s defenses are too strong. He’s matching Trixie’s speed with swift movements of his own, moving just enough to block her attacks either with his shield or parts of his armor. She can’t land a solid enough blow. He and Darvin aren’t faring any better. The flail’s reach is too long and they can’t get in close enough to land a blow, not with Valtek swinging that thing around. Valtek’s defenses are truly excellent. He’s not only using his shield as defense, he’s also using the flail’s longer range to create an impenetrable field around himself. They’re at a deadlock.

Kristov quickly makes an assessment of their situation. He scans the battlefield for a moment while making sure he is out of Valtek’s range. Lauranna is still dueling with the cloaked figure, stray magical energies burning or scouring the ground around them. The two are in the same situation as they are with Valtek. He looks down below the hill and sees that Starla and Vaughn are already trying to dismantle the artifact that’s powering the undead army, but the liches attached to the thing are fighting back. This is bad.

Suddenly, an explosion from Lauranna and the cloaked figure throws him off his feet. Something searing hot and sharp hit his midsection. His vision spiraled. The last thing he sees is Trixie’s broken body landing beside him. He hears a woman laughing seductively from somewhere. Darkness takes his vision.

 

* * *

 

 

Tendrils of magical energies flail about as Lauranna desperately tries to mentally seize control of the chaotic energies building up around her and her opponent, who is also doing the same. The mental struggle for control is at its full swing. Both can barely do anything while holding on to the weave. Barely.

Lauranna, again, tries to distract her opponent by directing one of the flailing tendrils of power at her, but Vorenia deflects it and uses that moment to fire a distraction of her own. Lauranna is barely able to deflect it while trying to hold on to the magical energies. This Vorenia is very skilled. Back and forth, back and forth; every time Lauranna tries to distract her, Vorenia deflects it expertly and fires a distraction of her own. The ground around them already reflects the struggle they’re in. The earth is burned or gouged at places, some shallow while others deep enough for someone to fall into. This can’t go on forever. She needs to do something fast. Otherwise, the amount of magical energies accumulated could go out of control and burn everyone around them to a crisp. Or worse…

_“LET ME DO IT, LOVE!”_

Her vision blurred for a moment and a sharp, searing pain suddenly jabs her mind. Everything suddenly goes dark.

 

 

* * *

 

 

An endless sea of grass sways in the soft sea breeze. She tries to brush her hands on the tall grass, but feels nothing. Far in the horizon, the sea sparkles red as a resplendent sun sets beyond. The visage of a once mighty fortress could be seen. Its walls broken and pillars of smoke rise from within.

Bodies are strewn across the field before her. Mangled and mutilated bodies of elves, dwarves, humans, and demons. She doesn’t care. They are nothing but pawns in her game.

She starts to become impatient. What is taking them so long? I will slice off their heads if they fail me. She growls in annoyance.

A rustle from behind. Her body stiffens. A seductive voice croons at her. “Mistress, all the preparations are complete as per your instructions. Would you like me to proceed with the plan?”

Her voice is harsh and as cold as deep winter’s night. “No. I will do it. Join your sisters and make sure nothing comes out of the fortress alive.”

The voice chuckles melodiously and playfully. “As you wish, my mistress.” A rustle and the presence is gone.

She closes her eyes for a moment, breathing in the salty sea air. She suddenly feels a tinge of nostalgia, but crushes it down without mercy. This is no time to reminisce. She looks down at her hands, her cold metallic hands. Everything is going according to plan. Nothing can stop her now.

 

* * *

 

 

Kristov gasps awake and then groans upon feeling the wound on his midsection. He’s sweating all over and he has a splitting headache. He tries to get up, but a gentle hand firmly holds him down. A soft voice of a woman accompanied the firm hand keeping him from getting up. “No. You’ll open up your wound. Just lie down and rest for now.”

He tries to see who’s speaking, but his vision is still blurry. His voice sounds hoarse when he speaks. “Who are you? Where are we?”

“Hush. Rest for now. We can talk later when you’re better.” He suddenly feels a hand lifting his head slightly. “Here, drink.” He generously accepts the offered drink. He didn’t realize he’s so thirsty. He tries to drink as much as he can from the water skin being offered, but chokes a little and coughs. “Easy. We can’t have you choking now.”

He lies back down, coughing a little. “Thank you.” He tries to blink away the blurriness from his vision, just so he can see where he is, but to no avail. Wherever it is, it’s dark and the air seems cool and a little damp. He could also hear water splashing somewhere, a small stream perhaps. He looks up at his companion, but his vision is too blurry to make out her face. “Who are you?”

He could hear her sigh in frustration. “I said not now. You need rest. The herbs I gave you will make you feel groggy, but it’ll help with the pain. You also have a fever, so it’s best that you just go back to sleep and save up your strength for now. We have a long ways to go yet.”

He stubbornly pushes through. “What about the army? What happened? Did any of my men survive?”

His companion clicks her tongue in annoyance. “Stubborn.” He then hears her chant something. She’s speaking it under her breath and he can’t make out what she’s saying, but he suddenly starts to feel sleepy.

He stubbornly shakes off the feeling and tries to ask the woman again. “Wait. Please…just…I just need to know…did any of the soldiers survive? What about Colleen…and Dorn?”

His companion takes on a softer tone, a gentler tone lulling him further to sleep. “Hush. You need not worry about them for now. What you need is rest. Sleep. Sleep.” She begins to hum a lullaby. The lullaby sounds familiar. Did his mother sing it to him? He can’t remember. But wait, the army, his friends, Dorn…he needs to…he needs to…

 

* * *

 

 

Lauranna hums a lullaby to Kristov. She gently caresses his head as she hums the tune that she learned from his memories. She didn’t mean to pry, but she’s still not skilled enough at delving into someone’s mind. She accidentally stumbled upon the tune while she dug into his memories of last night. The tune is very comforting though.

After a few minutes, Kristov’s eyes are finally close, his breathing calm and steady. She sighs. Finally. He’s very stubborn. The herbs she gave him for pain should have been enough to take him out, but it still took a sleep spell to finally make him fall asleep. In any case, he needs to rest. He can’t travel in his condition.

After making sure that Kristov is finally in a deep sleep, Lauranna leans back on the cave wall and closes her eyes. She slowly goes over what she saw in Kristov’s memory and her own. Nothing. There is still that blank spot. She already knew the explosion came from her and Vorenia. But who caused it? Was it her or Vorenia? Furthermore, there was that voice that spoke to her before she blacked out. Who was it? Was it all in her head? What about that dream that came after? What does it mean? And how in the hells did she and Kristov end up in this forest? Why only the two of them? What happened to the others? Are they safe?

She sighs in frustration. What’s happening to her? Is this an effect of losing Bhaal’s essence? The angelic entity didn’t warn her of this. She didn’t warn her of any consequences that might arise from her decision. “Great. I just took care of one problem. Now, this. Can’t I get a moment’s peace?” Her body wilts in defeat. She hangs her head as tears begin to fall from her eyes. Her lips quiver in frustration.

“No!” She wipes her eyes and stubbornly raises her head. She forces her body to straighten up. “I will not let this defeat me. I’ve come too far to give up now.” She takes a deep breath to calm her nerves. One problem at a time. Right now, she needs to help Kristov with his injuries. She needs Kristov alive and healthy. She pauses for a while to go through the many medicinal herbs she learned to use from Jaheira, noting the ones that can help speed up Kristov’s recovery. She goes through the long list and pick out the ones that she thinks she can get from the forest. With the supplies she got from the bandits last night, she should be able to make something. Yes, one problem at a time. That’s all there is to it.

 


	10. Chapter 10

Somewhere within the wild lands of southern Tethyr and not three miles from a bloody battlefield is a small encampment of soldiers and mercenaries currently recuperating from a disastrous battle they were in last night. It’s almost sundown and people are currently busy tending to the wounded and preparing for dinner. Those that have gone into the nearby forest to hunt for whatever game is available are now just returning with their catch. Others are still combing the battlefield, looking for any survivors or to retrieve the bodies of friends and comrades among the undead corpses. Morale is currently low. They may have survived, but their commander and leader, Sir Kristov Jaxxton, is missing along with their precious cargo, the reason why they are all here in the first place, the Bhaalspawn Lauranna.

Within the encampment and in one of the few tents left, Colleen Voltain sits patiently in front of a young woman seated in front of her. The young woman is clearly well past annoyed and she looks just about ready to storm out of the small tent they are currently occupying. The tent is nothing to brag about. There are patches here and there on the canvass and it’s barely large enough to fit a sleeping cot and two travelling stools, which are currently occupied by her and the young battle mage, Starla. “How many times do I have to tell you, you old crone, I wasn’t on the hill when that explosion happened! I was at the bottom of the hill with Vaughn, trying to destroy the orb that was powering the undead! Wasn’t that the plan? Are you growing too senile to even remember that?”

Colleen Voltaine, Senior Enchanter to the Crystal Academy of Tethyr, Magus Superior to the Order of the Arcana Sisterhood, Archmage to the Royal Court of Tethyr rubs her temple with one hand while trying to maintain her composure. Stopping herself from slapping the face of this disrespectful and petulant child seated in front of her is harder than all of the tests she has endured so far during her long life. That’s partly why she’s keeping her hands busy right now, to keep it from acting on its own accord. She needs to be patient with her. The girl has suffered enough having lost three of her closest friends in one single night, two of whom had died horribly. Besides, interrogation can be wearing on any person, especially if she’s the one doing the interrogating. She tries to keep her voice even and calm as she replies to the girl. “I understand your frustration, Starla. You are not the only one who lost friends in this fiasco. So please, try to understand my frustration as well. I need to know every bit of detail you can tell me as to what happened to your group last night. Perhaps it will shed light on some much needed answers. You do want answers, do you not?”

The girl pouts for a moment, eyes red and face dirty with grime, but proceeds to sigh in resignation. Colleen still finds it hard to believe that such a youth could be so proficient with using both magic and blade work. “I’ve already told you everything that I can remember. Vaughn and I were having a hard time trying to destroy that thing. The four liches bound to it were very powerful and it was all we could do to defend ourselves. While we tried to figure out how to destroy the thing and defend ourselves at the same time, we felt a massive explosion from the top of the hill and the entire area we were in was bathed in a bright light. It disoriented us. When we did manage to get our bearings straight, we tried to look at the top of the hill to see what was going on. But before we could get a good look, an intense bolt of arcane energy slammed into the orb, completely destroying it in a massive explosion. We were caught in that explosion. The last thing I remember is being thrown off my feet and seeing Vaughn fly by me, slamming into a nearby boulder as I followed him only seconds later.”

Colleen sighs. “Are you sure there’s nothing else?” she asks in an almost desperate tone. “You saw nothing before the artifact was destroyed? Please, Starla. Any detail you can dig up could be very valuable.”

The young battle mage looks her straight in the eye, green eyes filled with resentment. Her eyes are red from mourning her dead comrades. She also looks grimy. Her once lustrous dark brown hair looks unkempt and dark lines has formed under her eyes. The loss has hit her hard. Colleen suddenly feels a pang of guilt for putting the young woman through her interrogations so soon after the loss, but she has no choice. Any information she can get from her and Vaughn, any at all that would shed some light into what happened that night could help her in figuring out what happened to Kristov and the Bhaalspawn and perhaps tell her who their enemies are. The girl sighs in resignation and goes into deep thought, going through her memories of that horrible night. Her eyes suddenly lights up. “Wait. I do remember seeing someone before the artifact was destroyed.”

Colleen’s heart skips a bit. “Yes? Was it the Bhaalspawn?”

The young woman’s brow furrows in concentration. “I’m not sure. It was too far away. She looked like Lauranna though, since she was dressed in those rags. But something about her features was different. Something about the way she stood and her expression. And also, the hair was different. Lauranna had golden hair. That woman had deep red hair, like the color of blood.” She pauses for a moment, trying to see if there’s anything else. She looks up at Colleen and shakes her head. “That’s it. That’s all I can remember.”

Colleen sighs. Instead of finding answers, more questions pop up. Who was this redheaded woman? Is she one of the Bhaalspawn’s companions? Perhaps the ring hid more than the Bhaalspawn said. More questions in need of answers. “What a mess.”

Her own recollection of last night is a blur. She remembers being frustrated at Kristov’s stubbornness. She remembers fearing what the Bhaalspawn was planning. Several minutes had gone by since the Bhaalspawn had casted a spell to stop time within the area and the first signs of battle from the top of the hill emerged. She was helping with shoring up their failing defenses and destroying as much of the undead as she can when the same bright light Starla witnessed emanated from the top of the hill. Seconds later, a massive explosion resonated from somewhere behind the hill and a wave of foul energy cascaded through the battlefield, a wave that destroyed all the undead surrounding them and threw the living off their feet, even knocking some unconscious. She remembers seeing a second explosion from the top of the hill, an explosion of pure magical energy. She remembers panicking at that moment. She pushed herself up from being knocked down and rushed up the hill as fast as she could, with Dorn close behind her. When they got up the hill, all that remained were the bodies of Starla’s friends and the telltale signs that a magical doorway was opened recently.

She was so deep in thought that Starla’s sudden demand startled her. “Can I go now? I’d like some rest before I leave this place.”

Colleen quickly recovers and pauses for a moment, but could not think of any more questions to ask. She’s tired as well, having had little to no sleep since last night. She sighs. But there is one other thing though. She’s heard that what’s left of the mercenaries and adventurers the queen hired to bolster their army are now planning on leaving. Morale is low and most see no point in staying, with the army in taters and their quarry gone along with the leader of the army. Perhaps she can do something about this. “You can go, but before you do, I would like to ask one last favor.” Starla doesn’t say anything, but looks at her patiently. “I know that you and Vaughn will be leaving the army. I also know that the other mercenaries are planning the same. I ask that you stay. I may need your help.”

The young woman thinks for a moment. When she finally decided to talk, her voice is filled with hesitation. “I don’t know. Vaughn seems to have made up his mind. He wants to return to Waterdeep, says he’s had enough of losing friends. He invited me to come with him, says I have a bright future in Waterdeep. He says he might be able to get me into one of the academies for magic.”   

Colleen looks deep into Starla’s eyes. “But what do you want?”

The young woman pauses for a moment before answering, eyes locked with hers. “I want to avenge them.”

Colleen mentally sighs in relief. “I want that as well, Starla. Please, convince Vaughn for me. We all want vengeance for what happened. Perhaps talk to the other adventurers as well, convince them to stay. There is still, after all, the second part of your payment from the queen herself.”

The young woman’s eyes harden. “No. The gold doesn’t matter to me anymore. I just want to kill the monster that did this. I will try to convince Vaughn to stay. He can be reasoned with. Plus, I know that deep inside, he also wants vengeance. I’ll also talk to the other adventurers. I can’t promise anything though. They seem to be set on leaving.”

Colleen’s eyes soften for the young woman and she smiles warmly at her. “Thank you, Starla. That’s all I can ask for. Now go and get something to eat.  And clean yourself up. It’s getting dark and you need rest. You need to take better care of yourself.” Starla nods and gets up from her stool. She turns to leave the tent, eyes filled with determination. As she watches the young woman go, Colleen lets out a sigh.  She hopes she can muster up the same determination within herself. Many lives are counting on her right now, Kristov among them. “Kristov, you fool, you pigheaded fool,” she thought in frustration.

She stands up and decides to get out of the tent wanting some fresh air after spending almost the entirety of the day in it interrogating Vaughn and Starla. She walks out and is greeted by a busy but otherwise silent camp. The only noises she could hear are the moans of the injured or the dying. There is a level of gloom in the air that seems thick enough to smother what hope is left. Less than half of the Tethyrian soldiers remain and most of them are injured. Out of the ten wizards under her charge, only three are left. Of the seven that died, three of them were her closest friends and confidants. The mercenaries fared better, but not by much. Out of the hundred that accompanied the army, only about forty-eight are left. The priests though suffered the most loss by comparison. Only one remained out of the seven. After the undead had broken through and chaos started to reign within the living ranks, they targeted the priests immediately, seeing them as the greater threat despite the fact that the priests’ ability to turn undead was curiously ineffective that night. The priests could not fight back effectively after holding the barrier that kept the attacks from the undead army at bay for so long.

One other disturbing thing that has been lingering in her mind since last night is the way Starla’s companions died. The Halfling woman looked like she died suddenly and without any form of mutilation, but the other two were bloated and covered with black veins. They were barely recognizable. News was brought to her just this morning by one of the soldiers looking through the dead for survivors. It seems that some of the soldiers and mercenaries were found in the same state as two of Starla’s friends. It’s clearly poison and a potent one at that. This is strange since none of the weapons from any of the undead were found to be poisoned. She even inspected them herself. She will have to examine the bodies further though to be sure. Did their enemies employ assassins? If so, who were their targets? Was it the Bhaalspawn or was it Kristov? She sighs. More questions added to the pile.

While still pondering on their dire situation, Colleen notices a young man running towards her tent. Upon a closer look, she realizes he looks to be one of the scouts she sent out this morning to look for any signs of Kristov and the Bhaalspawn. Her heart starts to beat faster. Did they find something? Not able to contain herself, she starts to make her way towards the young man with haste, determined to meet him halfway. Some of the resting soldiers notice the commotion and starts to slowly move towards the scout. She manages to reach him ahead of them though. “Well? Did you find anything?” she demanded.

The young man takes a moment to catch his breath. He must have run a long way. Colleen could barely maintain her patience. After what seemed like an eternity, the boy finally manages to speak, although in a breathless manner. “My lady, we found some odd tracks half a day’s ride north from here. The tracks look to be that of a horse, but larger and heavier. The imprints were also burned into the grass. They look fresh and they seem to be heading roughly northwest. Jarith, the one with me, decided he’d follow the tracks and leave behind signs for us to follow.”

Colleen’s eyes widen in alarm. “What?! He went ahead to track them alone? Is he an idiot? Has he forgotten what our enemies are capable of?”

The young soldier panics and quickly tries to explain his fellow’s actions nervously. “My lady, you don’t have to worry! Jarith’s a fine tracker! That he is! He won’t get caught, I swear. He’s a veteran and he’s never been caught. He says tracking them could be important. He says he’ll maintain a safe distance if he finds them. He also says he’ll report back to us as soon as he finds out where they’re headed.”

Colleen is still annoyed, but there’s no helping it. She hopes this Jarith is as good as he says. In any case, imprints burned on the ground would mean a nightmare. It must be from the necromancer and the death knight that attacked them. Northwest? That’s roughly in the direction of Darromar. Are they heading for the capital? Why? “Anything else? Were there any signs of the Bhaalspawn or Kristov?”

“No, my lady, only the tracks. There were some humanoid tracks, but they belonged to only one person. There was also a lot of blood. Whoever it was must be injured, gravely.”

Colleen takes a moment to think. Northwest. They could be tracking the Bhaalspawn. They must have found some way to track her. Perhaps a trace spell they placed on her before she disappeared along with Kristov. But this is only a theory. They could be heading for the capital. If so, why? In any case, they will need to follow those tracks. “Good work, soldier. Rest for now. We will move out as soon as we can.”

She turns to the rest of the gathered soldiers and was surprised to find Dorn behind her. She hadn’t noticed his arrival. He looks worn. The lines under his eyes indicate he hasn’t slept at all since the battle. Right now, his eyes looks intense though despite the deep tiredness in them. She opens her mouth to give him instructions, but he doesn’t give her a chance. “Only half a day’s ride, huh? Good. I’ll spread the word. We’ll break camp as soon as possible. They can’t have gone far, seeing as they are injured.”

It’s clear to Colleen that he isn’t dealing well with Kristov’s disappearance. It also doesn’t help that out of the three lieutenants, he’s the only one that survived. She adopts a stern look and raises herself to her full height in preparation for the coming argument. Dorn Salvador is notoriously stubborn, even more so than Kristov. A good soldier, but still stubborn. “No. We will not break camp this late in the day. We cannot go stumbling in the dark with half of our surviving army barely able to stand. And injured or not, our enemies are still dangerous.”

Dorn growls at her. She could practically hear his teeth gritting. “Listen here, wizard. As of right now, I am the highest commanding officer left in the army. I am in command here. We will break camp now and follow those tracks. Do you understand?”

He turns to go, but her voice stops him in his tracks. “Have you forgotten what Kristov told us before the battle started, Dorn? I believe he said that if he was to fall that I would be in charge.”

Dorn doesn’t turn around. He remains silent, which means this could get dangerous. The soldiers around them are tense. They look at the lieutenant, nervously waiting for his reply. After what seemed like an eternity, Dorn finally breaks the silence and his voice sounds dangerous. “He’s not here, is he?”

Despite her outside appearance of confidence, Colleen is a little nervous. She’s never heard Dorn like this before. She shakes off the feeling and manages to reply without sounding nervous. “You plan on disobeying him then? Very well, go ahead and break camp. Let’s see how far you get in the dark with half our people still battered and bruised. Let’s see what Kristov has to say if you do find him and he sees how reckless and stupid you’ve been.” Dorn visibly quivers at every word. He doesn’t say anything after the tirade. The soldiers around them seem to be frozen in place, too afraid to move perhaps. After a few moments, she slowly approaches Dorn and gently places a hand on his arm. She could feel his muscles tense. His eyes are like burning coals. She lowers her voice. “Dorn, please, we need to work together. I cannot do this alone. I want to find him as well. You know that. But we cannot be reckless about it. The soldiers and the mercenaries need rest. We will only lose more ground and people if we make a move now.”

After several seconds, Dorn relaxes and lets out a deep sigh. “Very well, we will rest for now.” And with that, he begrudgingly walks away.

Colleen mentally lets out a sigh of relief as he watches Dorn go. Good. She’s given Starla and herself more time to convince the rest of the mercenaries to stay. She then turns to the rest of the soldiers. “The rest of you, get back to your duties. We need to recuperate as fast as we can if we are to gain some ground.” The soldiers slowly goes back to whatever they were doing, murmuring amongst themselves as they go.

As the small crowd melts away, they reveal Gideon who, apparently, was at the back of the crowd all this time, listening to the confrontation. He shuffles slowly towards Colleen with his characteristic stoop and with hands behind his back. Gnarled old Gideon has always been odd to Colleen, but she doesn’t really know much about him, other than the fact that he’s very good at politicking. She’s also heard odd and outlandish rumors here and there, but nothing that concerned her or her work in the academy. It was only when she joined this mission that she started to really pay attention to the unassuming old man. And her observations of him have piqued her interest. She sees now why the King and Queen would take him on as an adviser. He’s no ordinary politician. Those old and tired eyes hide a keen and observant mind, like a hawk watching its prey. His posture is deceptive as well. He may have a stoop, but his stance speaks of confidence. Arrogance, even. She will need to watch him closely. There is still the question of who betrayed them after all.

As the old man approaches, he offers her a warm smile. He starts to speak in his characteristic dry tone. “Good afternoon, Archmage Colleen.” He then blinks his eyes and takes a look around him and at the darkening sky. “Or should I say good evening? My, how time flies.”

She eyes him curiously. “And a good evening to you too, Councilman. I trust you are well? You look about ready to fall with fatigue.”

The councilman sighs before replying in his dry voice. “Yes, I am. I’ve spent the entire night helping with the wounded. Sadly, some didn’t make it.”

Colleen sighs as she turns to look at the nearby soldiers resting. She could hear groans of pain among them. “Yes, it’s been a long day for all of us.”

The councilman moves in beside her. “Yes, very disheartening. But we must not lose faith. We still have our orders.”

“Yes. I know. As you’ve heard, our scouts have found some tracks we can follow. Hopefully, those tracks will lead to some much needed answers,” she discreetly looks at the councilman from out the corner of her eye. “Like who betrayed us.”

The councilman scoffs. “Every soldier here is loyal, of that I am certain. The mercenaries were screened meticulously by my own agents. None here would ever betray Queen Zaranda.”

Colleen is skeptical. “Really? Because this really looks like a well-laid trap to me, like someone informed them to wait for us here, at this exact location. I’ve already ruled magic out as a way of tracking our movement, since me and the rest of my charges were extra vigilant in watching out for such spells. This leads me to believe that some of us here were secretly feeding them information through other means.”

“My dear, if you remember correctly, we encountered a lot of merchants within the desert. Any one of them could have informed our enemies. Not to mention any number of vagabonds could have spotted us while we were on the move.”

“But to know exactly where to wait for us? I find that hard to believe considering that we were following no particular path. We backtracked not once, but twice since leaving the desert. No, Gideon. Someone was feeding our enemies information on our exact location.”

“And you think one of us here is the culprit?”

She turns to look directly at the gnarled councilman. “I know for a fact that you were the one that convinced Queen Zaranda to spare the Bhaalspawn’s life. She was set on having her hunted down and killed. You protested and convinced her to do otherwise. Why?”

The councilman chuckled at the accusation in her voice. “You think I betrayed our location? How exactly did I do it, my dear?”

“When all this started, no one was allowed to send out any form of message as a way to ensure the secrecy of the mission. You were the only one authorized by Kristov to do so, but only to inform Queen Zaranda of our progress and nothing else. You sent out a message the night we captured the Bhaalspawn. Who knows how many more you’ve sent out since then and to who? Too bad the hawk master is dead. Otherwise, I could have interrogated him quite thoroughly on this.”

“I see. You know what I think? I think you are the traitor, Colleen.”

Colleen’s eyes widen at the blunt accusation. “Me?” She scoffs.

“Yes, you and your colleagues. After all, you did say you were the ones who were keeping us all safe from any form of divinations. How do I know you were doing exactly what you said you were doing, instead of sending the enemy our exact location, hmm?”

Colleen was already fuming by the time Gideon finished speaking. She’s about ready to cast a spell to dig into the mind of the councilman right then and there for even thinking of accusing her or her charges. But she forces herself to calm down instead. She understands exactly what the councilman is trying to say. “I’m sorry, Gideon. I’m just tired. I didn’t mean to accuse you of anything. You’re right. We could have been found in any number of ways. Pointing fingers now would be counterproductive to our situation.”

The councilman chuckles again. “It is good to know that you can control that temper of yours. I was about ready to run as far away from you as possible with the way you were looking at me just now. In any case, there is nothing to forgive. We are all tired and on edge after what happened.”

She sighs. “Yes. It’s best we focus on finding the Bhaalspawn and Kristov instead of giving in to paranoia.”

“You are quite right, my dear. On that note, I believe I may have found a way for us to do that. It might be more reliable than, let’s say, following some tracks that could lead to our deaths.”

Colleen is genuinely curious and looks expectantly at Gideon. “Really? Why didn’t you say this from the start? You could have lead with it, you know.”

Colleen didn’t think the councilman’s voice could get any drier, but apparently she’s wrong. “My dear, I was going to tell you, but then you started accusing me of being a traitor, remember?”

Colleen tries to retain a semblance of calm before speaking. “I’m sorry. What have you found?”

The councilman continues on dryly. “Well, a little while ago, I was trying to get more bandages and herbs from what’s left of our supplies. After getting proper permission from the quartermaster, I rummaged through some sacks and crates when I heard a hiss. I had the sense to duck and was lucky enough to avoid an attack from a fairy dragon. Tymora must have blessed me today considering that I was able to catch it using one of the empty sacks before it could get away.”

Colleen could barely contain the excitement from her voice. “The Bhaalspawn’s familiar! Where is it now?”

“I rushed to one of your surviving colleagues and I told him to keep it safe while I inform you of my find. I think his name is Darren. I left them in a tent near the quartermaster.”

This is very fortunate indeed! Now, they potentially have two leads in finding Kristov and the Bhaalspawn. She is curious though. How come it stayed here? She remembers putting it in a magically sealed cage, intending for it to be a hostage to give the Bhaalspawn incentive to not betray them. She then remembers giving the cage to Danielle, one of her charges, for safekeeping. When she found Danielle among the dead last night and the cage crushed open, she had thought the familiar would be long gone by then. Why is it still here? Did the Bhaalspawn plan all of this, to use her familiar as a spy? No matter. She can’t use it now. But Colleen can. Done right, she could use the familiar to trace its mistress’s location. “Yes. It’s possible. It might be difficult, but it can be done.”

She notices the councilman looking troubled for some reason. “You’re going to use it to track Lauranna down. I’m no mage, but I have a feeling it might not be very pleasant for the familiar.”

Yes. That’s true. It’s going to be painful for the familiar in question. It might even die after all this is done, but only if it doesn’t ‘cooperate’ per se. It could try to deny her access to the bond it shares with its mistress. If it does, well, she’s done torture before. If it means finding out where Kristov is, she’s ready to do it. She is ready to do anything to keep her promise. “Alyssa, I will keep your son safe. This I swear,” she whispers to herself.

 

* * *

 

 

From the lower branches of a tall tree within the encampment, a large owl watches on as Colleen and Gideon start to walk towards the quartermaster’s area. Unbeknownst to the two, the owl has been listening intently for some time now. It takes a moment to consider whether or not it should follow Colleen and Gideon, but finally decides to not do so. It hoots before it silently flies off into the distance towards the battlefield. As soon as it’s far enough from the encampment and away from prying eyes, the owl suddenly changes into a small falcon. It increases its speed as it continues eastward towards the desert. In its haste, it doesn’t notice a shadow lurking among the bushes near the battlefield, watching it fly by.

 

* * *

 

 

A shadow lurks within the shrubbery. He notices an owl fly overhead. As he watches it with interest, the owl suddenly changes into another type of bird. A falcon. It increases its speed as it heads eastwards towards the desert. The shadow growls in frustration. He should have killed it when he had the chance. Those fools still in the desert would have had a harder time following if he had killed it. His reactions are getting muddled. His hands are quivering. His heart is pounding within his chest. He’s finding it harder to focus after last night’s fiasco. Foiled again!

When they had found their prey in the middle of the army of Tethyrian soldiers, the battle was already at full swing. The air was thick with rage and the scent of blood. It was difficult making their way through the chaos of the battlefield unseen. He even had to take out a few of the mercenaries and soldiers just to get to his prey. When they did finally get close enough, something happened. The air seemed to ripple and all of a sudden, his prey is gone. A moment later, there was an explosion at the top of the hill. He quickly raced through the army and up the hill. Despite being delayed by the undead, he managed to get near the top. He noted the others made it through the chaos as well. He signaled them to create a perimeter near the top of the hill in order to prevent anyone from escaping. He wanted her all to himself. The others obeyed, knowing what awaited them if they even hesitated to do so. He was so close he could smell his prey’s scent. He was so close he could feel the warmth of her skin. He was almost there when a bright light washed over him and blinded him. Time seemed to stop. He heard a voice as smooth as silk say something he could not completely understand. It took time for him to recover…time she used to escape! When he did finally recover and found that his prey was nowhere to be seen, he almost howled in frustration at that moment. His rage filled him to the brink of insanity that he lashed out at whoever was left alive on that hill. He didn’t bother to look at who it was he killed that night. They didn’t matter. What mattered is that she escaped again!

When the others found out what had happened, he had already retreated off somewhere in rage. He could practically feel their surprise and the judging eyes that followed. All knew he has never failed before. All knew his reputation of success. But they also know of his brutality and his sadistic nature. None dared to voice out the failure. If they had, he would have slit their throat and cut out their tongue before they could finish a sentence.

Right now, none of them have any idea where to begin searching for their prey. The others are currently hiding within the encampment listening for any news as to where she is. He, on the other hand, has decided to stay near the battlefield. Currently, the smell of blood and decay seem to calm him better than the scent of unwashed bodies and the sound of the dying. Last night’s failure has affected him deeper than the others know. His hands are constantly shaking. His movements seem lethargic. It’s hard to keep focused. He knows anything will set him off right now, so he left the others to do the reconnaissance work. It would not do if he lost composure completely and go on a bloodbath in the middle of that army. It’s been too long since he’s had a warm body to ravage.

Suddenly, he notices movement among the corpses in the battlefield. He quickly stills himself, focusing on a particularly large mound of decaying corpses nearby. A moment passes and a pale and slender hand suddenly emerges from beneath the pile of corpses. Whoever it is, it’s struggling to get out from underneath the pile of death. When it finally manages to get out, he realizes that it’s one of the mercenaries seeing as it’s not wearing a standard Tethyrian uniform or armor. It’s a woman with short crop golden hair. Her clothes are bloodied and torn. When she finally manages to stand, he notices that she’s clutching her abdomen and is limping. She’s severely injured. He quickly takes a look around to see if any of the soldiers and mercenaries is still looking through the corpses for their dead. None seem to be within the immediate vicinity. Like a viper, he strikes quickly. He musters all the focus he has left and rushes out of the shrubbery he’s been hiding in for the better part of the day. He unleashes one of his poisoned daggers, the one with his special poison. The woman doesn’t know what hit her. He slices her leg a little and he grabs her as she begins to fall to the ground. With her limp body in tow, he quickly makes his way back to his hiding place. She may not be who he truly desires right now, but she will have to do. Finally, all that pent up frustration that has been gnawing at his sanity will finally be released. Oh, the sweet release.


	11. Chapter 11

Darkness, darkness all around her. The air is cold and dry. Where is she? What is this place? She decides to move forward with arms outstretched, trying to find a way out of this darkness. She tries to find walls or anything that could help guide her, but nothing. There is nothing but the darkness…and the feeling of loneliness. She tries to cry out for help, but her throat is dry and her voice sounds hoarse. “Hello? Is anyone there?” Nothing.

She continues on despite the lack of direction or anything to guide her. After what seemed like hours of stumbling in the cold darkness, she finally sees something off into the distance, a pinprick of light. Motivated by its sudden appearance, she moves faster. The floor is curiously smooth, almost like marble, so she decides to be cautious. She doesn’t want to slip and fall into a hole or stumble into anything unpleasant.

As she gets closer, she starts to see the source of the light. In the middle of the oppressive darkness stands a pedestal. Atop the pedestal floats a bright white flame. The pedestal is surrounded by five massive arches with about three meters of space in between them. When she finally gets to the small lighted area, she realizes that the arches are actually massive two sided doors, each of different make and design. Massive chains are curiously on the floor near the five doorways. The chains are rusted and falling apart. It seems like the chains were once coiled around the doorways, keeping them securely closed. She cautiously circles the pedestal. Curiously, the white flame doesn’t seem to be giving off heat. In fact, this area seems to be even colder. “What is this place?”

Curiosity gnawing at her, she turns to the massive doorways. She starts to inspect the one directly behind her. It seems to be made of gray stone. The arched frame and the doors themselves are carved with faces, faces filled with fear and anguish. She tries to touch it, but recoils almost immediately. She takes a quick step back. Fear, primal fear seemed to wash over her as her fingers touched the doorway. She could feel her knees weaken as her skin brushed the door.

She decides to leave that door alone. She has a feeling that whatever is inside will not be pleasant. She moves on to the next door to the right. This one is far more extravagant. The frame seems to be made out of the most pristine white marble she has ever seen. The doors are made out of pure gold, inlaid with precious gems. There are impressions on the doors. She looks closer at one and sees a statuesque woman sitting on a graceful throne and throngs of worshipers bowing at her feet. Some of the worshipers are offering the woman wealth beyond imagining, but the woman seems disinterested. She tries to push the door open, but it seems to be shut tight. After trying for some time and failing, she decides to move on. She regrets it though. She’s curious what’s on the other side.

The next door is less extravagant, but more beautiful. It’s made out of carved wood and it smells faintly of lavender and rose. It looks very elegant. The lines of the frame seem to flow gently like cascading water. To her surprise, the doors are carved with the most erotic scenes, bodies intertwined in very imaginative ways. The women have very soft, voluptuous, and curved bodies, while the men are athletic, well-muscled, and sporting massive cocks. She could feel her face turn scarlet looking at the scenes depicted. She quickly turns away, but the sweet scent coming from the doorway seems to entice her. All of a sudden, fires of passion seem to well up within her. She slowly turns back around. She looks closer at the carvings. They seem to be moving now and she could hear soft moans and groans accompanied by soft and sweet whispers of promises of great pleasure. She’s having thoughts of opening the doorway now and seeing what ‘activities’ lies beyond, perhaps even partaking in them.

She’s about to push the doors open when she hears a soft grinding sound, as if one of the doors is opening. The sound quickly takes her out of her reverie. She quickly looks around to see which one made the noise. The one to the left of the gray stone door seems to be ajar. She slowly makes her way to it, quickly noting the one next to the wooden door that’s made out of iron. As she gets closer to the doorway in question, she realizes that this one is by far the strangest door out of the five. It’s made out of some bright red material with dark spots all over. She can’t tell whether it’s stone or metal. The dimensions seem off as well. The arched frame seems to be twisted and warped and the two doors seem to be of slightly different size. There are dents on some parts of the doors, like someone or something massive was pounding on the other side trying to get out. Unlike the others, the chains at the foot of the doors don’t look rusted. It looks like they were melted off. As she gets closer to the doorway, she begins to hear whispers. At first, the whispers are unintelligible. But as she gets closer and closer, they become more audible.

“ _Kill them all! Kill them all!”_

_“They hurt us! Hurt them back! Kill them!”_

_“Yes! Kill them! Slice them open and watch as their blood and guts flow out!”_

_“Yes! They deserve it! They use us! They hurt us!”_

_“They all deserve it! Kill them all!”_

Every fiber of her being wants to run, run as far away from this door as possible. But for some reason, she still moves in closer…and closer. Her eyes are fixated on the small opening. She tries to look away or close her eyes, but it doesn’t work. Her body is moving on its own. She’s afraid. The same primal fear she felt when she touched the first doorway washes over her. Her breathing becomes ragged. She could feel the heat emanating from this door as she gets closer, the same intense heat that has melted the chains. She begins to sweat profusely as she gets closer and the heat becoming more intense. Suddenly, a badly burnt hand slowly slides out of the slight opening. The whispers become more intense, whispers of revenge, whispers of killing, and whispers of death. Shadowy tendrils begin to ooze out of the opening. She reaches the door and she sees someone looking out at her from the darkness beyond the slight opening, eyes like burning coal. The whispers have now become howls of anger and rage, calling for death rightly deserved. She whimpers as she looks into the rage filled eyes. “Hello, Lauranna.”

The burnt hand suddenly grabs her throat, its burnt flesh searing her own. She screams in pain. The pain from her neck quickly spreads throughout her body, like a wildfire burning through dry and open grasslands. She screams in agony. Her vision blurs and is suddenly bombarded with scenes of pain, anguish, mutilation, loss, anger, and hate. Over and over, she sees people being mutilated by others whose faces are contorted with rage. She sees people dying and the anguished cries of the loved ones they have left behind. Slowly, she starts to realize in horror that she recognizes the people in her vision. It’s her. Every single mutilator and their victims, all the people suffering, all of them have her face. Every scene is more horrible than the last, more painful, more heart wrenching. She can no longer take it. She cries out for help. “Please! Make it stop! Someone…anyone…help me!”

 

* * *

 

In a cave somewhere in the fringes of the forest of Tethyr, Lauranna screams awake. She quickly gets up trying to see where she is. It’s still dark. The only light source is the dying embers of the fire just a few feet to her left. She finally realizes where she is and tries to calm her nerves. She’s sweating profusely despite the cold. Her body is still shaking. The nightmare, it was so vivid, so real. She hugs her legs closer to her body, resting her forehead on her knees. She bites her lip, trying to stop herself from crying. “It was only a nightmare. It was not real.” She then realizes that she might have disturbed Kristov. She quickly looks over to the other side of the campfire and sees Kristov’s sleeping form. She sighs in relief. Good. She didn’t wake him.

She lies back down, thinking about her nightmare. In the time she spent nursing Kristov back to health, she’s been thinking about her recent dreams. She really can’t remember them all, but she still tries to find any significance in the parts she does remember. It all has to mean something. In the past, her dreams have always guided her. They were a little vague at times, but they still held answers. But this one and the others she’s had, they seem disjointed and random to her. This most recent one though, the nightmare she just had, it was the most vivid. She could still remember it right down to the tiniest detail. What did it mean? What were those doors? Who was that that grabbed her and showed her the horrible visions? Does it have anything to do with her recent bouts of memory loss?

She sighs. She can’t think of anything. Her mind is too jumbled at the moment, her emotions still raw due to that nightmare. She doesn’t want to due to fear, but she might as well try and get some sleep before dawn comes. Kristov has regained consciousness earlier in the day and has begun to interrogate her. She’s managed to deflect most of his questions so far by telling him he still needs rest and that she needs to go out into the forest to forage for food. They can’t very well eat only dried meat and stale bread. With the help of his healing skills as a paladin, Kristov will be strong enough by the morrow and there will be no avoiding his inquisitions. She needs to be of sound and rested mind if she is to endure it without revealing too much. There are things she can’t tell him. Maybe when she’s sure she can trust him, but right now, not yet. Right now, she needs rest. Her last thoughts before sleep took her lingered on Calima. She dearly hoped the miniature dragon has managed to escape unscathed and is heading for her right now.

 

* * *

 

 

“After I blacked out, the next thing I remember is waking up in the middle of the forest. You were beside me, bleeding and unconscious. I took your armor off and staunched the bleeding. It was then that bandits stumbled upon us. Upon seeing our dreadful condition, they decided to take advantage. I ensorcelled them easily enough and found that they had a hideout nearby. I ordered them to take us here and sent them on their merry way, but not before rewriting a few things in their simple minds; the location of this hideout for instance and a little nudge into changing their ways. With the help of a few supplies they had, I managed to take care of your wounds and nurse you back to some semblance of health in less than two days.”

Sitting cross-legged with his katana propped on his shoulder, Kristov looks into the eyes of the woman sitting in front of him. Lauranna looks a little annoyed. She also looks tired, like she hasn’t had much sleep. Maybe the scream he heard last night wasn’t a dream? In any case, she looks well enough to answer his questions. She’s managed to deflect them yesterday using the excuse that he’s not strong enough and that she needs to forage for food, but there is no avoiding it now. This would be the fifth time she has related the same story to him; her recollection of the night he got injured. Every single time, the same story, word for word. She doesn’t seem to be lying or is just very good at it. Taking a moment, he goes through the story she just told him again, paying attention to every single detail. “And you have no recollection at all of how we got here?”

She crosses her arm in annoyance. “No. And if you’re going to ask me to tell the story again, I’m going to scream in your face.”

He raises an eyebrow at her. “Let me remind you that you are still my prisoner. If I order you to jump, I expect you to outdo a frog. If I order you to tell me a story, I expect you to put to shame any court bard in Tethyr.” She rolls her eyes at him in response, but says nothing. “Now, you also told me before that you think that the others might have survived, that we did manage to destroy that artifact before we were teleported away. How do you know this?”

She doesn’t answer immediately. She looks through him at something distant, her eyes adopts a faraway look. After a few moments, she blinks her eyes and focuses on him. She looks troubled but tries to hide it. “Yes. That is my theory. And the reason is my familiar is still alive and is not moving. That means your army is still probably holding her captive in hopes of using her to get to me. They’re somewhere to the south, probably resting and recovering from the fight.”

Kristov is a little skeptical, but hopeful. “And how do you know she is not being held captive by Valtek and his lackey instead?”

She becomes thoughtful for a moment, but replies with certainty. “Yes, this could be the case. They could be using Calima to pinpoint my exact location. But again, she still has not moved from her current location. That means whoever she’s with are also not moving. Knowing our enemy, they would have made a move as soon as possible. Unlike your army, they will not be hindered by injuries and such. And we’ve been in this forest for two days now.”

She makes a good point. There is still hope that most of his soldiers survived the battle. He thinks for a moment and remembers something Colleen told him a long time ago about familiars. “Can’t you look through your familiar’s eyes to validate your theory? Or is a sorcerer’s magic far more different than that of a wizard?”

She looks at him flatly. “And you think I haven’t tried that? No. I can’t. She’s too far away. I can only tell that she’s alive and that she’s somewhere to the south. She’s also a little scared and hungry.”

Kristov sighs and thinks for a moment. Right now, he has two choices. One would be to rendezvous with his army to the south and continue on to the capital with the remainder of his army. If he’s able to do so and most of his soldiers are still alive along with the mercenaries, this would ensure that Lauranna remains a prisoner throughout the remainder of the journey to the capital. Plus, there would be safety in numbers. He cannot deny though, no matter how hard he tries, that this option feels selfish because he knows in his heart his true motivation is to make sure that Dorn and Colleen are still alive, especially Dorn. Another reason stopping him from taking the first option is he can’t fully trust Lauranna’s word that they are still alive, as much as he wants to believe her. Her optimism aside, there could still be a chance that her familiar is being held captive by their enemies, perhaps bait to lure them in.

His other option would be to continue on to the capital from here, with Lauranna in tow. Right now, he is in a perfect situation to smuggle his prisoner into the capital undetected. They would be harder to track since it would only be the two of them. And with only the two of them, they would be able to move faster. He cannot keep the queen waiting. To go south would take time. Time he might not have. Furthermore, if Valtek’s goal is to track and capture Lauranna, going back to the place they were ambushed would not be wise. There are dangers in choosing this path though. If by chance Valtek is able to track them, he would be facing impossible odds. Right now, he is in no condition to fight. Not with his injuries.

There is one more thing that he needs to consider though. Lauranna. What if all of this is nothing more than an elaborate plot to free herself? What if Valtek is in league with Lauranna and the attack was planned all along. Or Lauranna could be using the attack as an opportunity to escape. Right now, Lauranna is essentially free. He has no way to recreate the magical bindings the wizards placed on her before. If Lauranna wishes to escape, this would be the perfect moment. How much of her story is really true and how much of it is fabricated? After all, he remembers very little of what truly happened that faithful night. “ _She stayed to care for your wounds and nurse you back to health when she could have easily left you where you were, bleeding your life away.”_ He sighs. He then notices Lauranna looking at him. Her head slightly tilted to the side and her deep blue eyes filled with curiosity. “What? Do I have something on my face?”

She quirks a small smile. “Aside from dirt and grime? No. I just find you curious. I’ve met a few paladins in my travels. They are men and women of action who act on instinct. They trust their gut and base their actions on faith and belief that their patron god would not lead them astray. You, on the other hand, plan your actions deeply. You look at a problem in different angles and base your course of action not on faith alone, but with reason. I find that interesting.”

This time, it’s his turn to look at her flatly. “Still trying to charm me? I thought we’re past that.”

She laughs melodiously. “No, Kristov, I am not trying anything. I am merely stating an observation. Besides, I would never try to get in between two individuals who are obviously in love.”

Her smile disarms him a little. He doesn’t want to admit it, but her charms are starting to work on him. He’s finding it harder now to see through her words and discern her true intentions. He’s finding it a lot harder now not to trust her. Though it’s true that he is committed to Dorn and their relationship, he cannot deny that a woman like Lauranna doesn’t catch his eye. Despite being a little grimy from her ordeal and dressed in nothing but rags, her radiant beauty still manages to shine through. He has no doubt that any man would be disarmed faced with that smile. But he steels himself. A lot is on the line and he cannot allow himself to be distracted. Besides, right now, Dorn’s faith is what occupies most of his mind. He once again looks at Lauranna with guarded eyes. “I know what you’re trying to do. You’re trying to distract me, distract me from the fact that you’re hiding something. As you said, I am a paladin. I can see beyond your charming façade. What are you hiding? What are you not telling me?”

Her smile deepens. “A woman has many secrets, Kristov. Do not expect her to reveal all of them to you simply because you demand it.” Her eyes do not reveal anything. He sighs at her reply. It seems he isn’t going to get any more from her today. Besides, they are wasting daylight. They should start moving if they are to get anywhere. He stands up gingerly to begin packing supplies for the journey ahead, taking care not to open his wound. He can feel her eyes on him as he rummages around the cave to look for things they may need. She doesn’t say anything for a time, but decides to finally break the silence while he’s packing his armor in one of the sturdier and cleaner sack. “So, what are you planning?”

He grins at the question and replies in a slightly mocking tone without turning to look at her. “A man has many secrets, Lauranna. Do not expect him to reveal them to you just because you asked.” He could practically feel her eyes roll at the reply. She does not say anything though and remains silent, watching him. He ignores it and starts to plan.

They need to travel fast and light. That’s why he’s leaving his armor behind, buried under the ground with rocks marking the spot discreetly. They can’t very well remain stealthy if he’s going to wear something that would undoubtedly catch attention. He’ll return for it in the future once all this trouble is taken care of. Thankfully, one of the bandits left behind a set of leather armor that fits him perfectly. It will have to do.

Water shouldn’t be too hard to find now that they’re out of the desert, so there is no need to pack more than what’s necessary. He checks what rations they have, which is a few rolls of bread and a pack of dried and salted meat. Food is not an issue as well since they can forage for food in the forest easily enough.

What they do need is gold for when they get out of the wilds and into more civilized lands. The bandits left behind a stash, but there are only a few gold coins. Most are light weight silver and coppers. They did leave behind other objects though that could be sold for a few silver coins, maybe gold. He decides to pack a few of the animal pelts as well. They can serve as blankets during the night and maybe he can use them to trade at the first village they can find. He also takes a few of the bandages and herbs just in case. Part of him feels guilty for using stolen goods though, but Tyr will forgive him. These are, after all, desperate times.

The next part is to pinpoint exactly where they are. He’s already been outside for a look and a little fresh air, but the woods don’t look familiar to him. He’ll need more information on their location and he knows exactly who to ask. After packing a few more essential items, he turns to Lauranna, who seems to be preoccupying herself with cleaning her nails. He tosses her one of the packs he’s prepared. “It’s time for us to leave, my lady. Or are you going to make that difficult for me as well?”

Her lips curve into a small smile as her eyes glittered with mischief. “Maybe I’ll make you carry me all the way to wherever it is you are taking me.”

He doesn’t take the bait. “I am taking you to my queen to face judgment. Or have you forgotten?”

The mischief in her eyes disappears and curiosity replaces it instead. “Curious. Don’t you want to rejoin your army, ensure the safety of your friends and your lover?”

He sighs and takes a moment before answering. He did not come to this decision easily. “Yes, I do. But my duty comes first. I swore to take you back to face judgment no matter the cost. With just the two of us, it would be easier to hide our tracks. It would also be faster.”

She nods in understanding. “I see. What of your friends and the rest of your soldiers? I could be wrong. For all we know, they might be prisoners right now. For all we know, Valtek could be torturing them at this very moment for information.”

He steels himself. “Then it would be wiser to stay away and move on to the capital.” Despite his efforts, his heart panged at his words. “Your capture and delivery to the capital is our duty. Every man and woman that went with me knew this. They knew the risks involved and still they volunteered. If any of them were in my position now, they would be doing the same thing.”

“I see.” She looks at him for a few moments, eyes unreadable, and then gracefully rises to her feet. She picks up the pack of supplies from the ground. “Let’s get a move on then, paladin, while we still have daylight. And I promise I won’t be difficult.” She gives him a smile dripping with honey.

He scoffs at her before walking out. What sunlight that manages to get through the thick canopy greets him as he exits the cave. Its warmth is filling him with determination. He crosses the small stream in front of the cave and head into the small clearing beyond. He notices he’s alone, so he looks back to see Lauranna facing the cave and chanting something he could not hear. Suddenly, the cave entrance disappears and is replaced with a massive boulder covered in vines and moss. She then walks towards him. Once in front of him, she attempts to touch his forehead with her index finger. His body tenses and he immediately grabs her hand before she could do so. “What are you doing?”

She smiles innocently as she replies. “As you can see, I have hidden the cave from prying eyes with an illusion and placed a few discreet enchantments to prevent anyone from stumbling into it. I am merely ensuring that you and only you can find this cave in the future.” He eyes her suspiciously. “You do want to return for your armor, do you?”

He sighs and finally allows her to place her spell. As her finger touches his forehead, he feels a tingle spread from the spot she’s touching, all the way to the back of his head. She then takes a step back from him. He looks back in the direction of the cave and finds that he can see through her illusion. The boulder and the vines look hazy and transparent. There is also an orb of light hovering just above the cave entrance. He looks back at Lauranna, still feeling wary. “Thank you. I do want to return here once all of this is done. But right now, I want you to help me find out where we are exactly.”

He takes out a crude map the bandits had in their possession and places it on the ground in front of him. He groans as he kneels down. Despite his efforts to heal himself with magic, his wound still feels tender and sore. Lauranna is quickly at his side, helping him down to his knees. “Be careful. You don’t want that opening up. You may have healed yourself, but it is clearly not enough. You need a proper healer.” Her voice is surprisingly tender, almost motherly in fact. He nods to her in thanks. She then proceeds to kneel opposite him. “So, what do you want me to do?” Her eyes filled with curiosity, almost as if she’s excited about this whole thing.

He sighs and proceeds to tell her his plans. “I have examined this map the bandits left behind. I can’t be too sure, but we might be somewhere in the Wealdath. There is just not enough detail on this map for me to guess at a more accurate location. If you can remedy this, I can plot a safe route to the capital.”

She nods, studying the map closely. “Yes. I have figured as much. There is a familiarity in the air. I’ve travelled the Wealdath before, although I do not recognize the area where we are.” She is silent for a moment, deep in thought. After a few moments, her eyes brighten. “I have an idea, but it risks exposing our location though. It is a small risk, but still a risk. A magic user looking could potentially detect the spell I will be using.”

He thinks for a moment. How far can he really trust this woman? “Use it then. We cannot make a move without knowing where we are, especially not in the Wealdath.”

“Very well. Give me a moment.” She concentrates while holding out her two hands in front of her, palms facing upward. She chants a few words of power. Suddenly, an orb no bigger than his head and glowing softly with a white light appears above her open palms. Her eyes are glowing as well with the same light as the orb. The orb then slowly floats upward through the branches of the trees, gaining speed as it goes. After a few minutes or so, she gives him instructions. “There. The orb has broken through the canopy. Place both of your hands on mine, slowly. And be ready, the feeling can be a little peculiar.”

He does as instructed and slowly places his hands on top of hers. At first, nothing happens. But suddenly, his vision blurs for a few seconds and is replaced with a view well over a thousand feet over the canopy. He almost pulled back in shock, but stopped himself before he could do so. The feeling is jarring and a little unsettling. It takes him few minutes before he could adjust to the view. “This is unnatural,” is all he could say.

He could hear her chuckle. “Well, I did warn you. So, does it look familiar? I’m passing control of the eye to you. Just…imagine turning your head if you want to look around.”

He does as instructed and amazingly, it worked. All he did was imagine turning and the view swiveled in the same direction. With this, he could easily locate where they are and plot a route with ease. He pauses for a moment and gets an idea. “How far can you make it go?”

“Not very far. The vision will start to blur the farther it gets. This is optimal. You can adjust it though. Just imagine squinting at anything you’re looking at and the image should come closer.” He mentally nods at the instructions given and begins to take a look around, noting familiar landmarks. After several minutes go by, he finally realizes where they are. He can’t help but groan a little at the realization. “Okay. I know exactly where we are now. How do we…end this?”

“Close your eyes.” He does as suggested. After a few seconds, he hears her voice. “Okay, you can open them now. Your vision might still be a little blurry, but it will pass in a few moments.”

He opens his eyes slowly and finds that his vision is still a little blurry, as she said. “That was…interesting.” He blinks his eyes and shakes his head a little as his vision slowly returns to normal.

Lauranna sits patiently in front of him, but after a few seconds finally breaks the silence. “Well, where are we?”

Vision still a little blurry, he answers her question. “We are about two days ride east of the Starspire Mountains. We‘re near the edge of the forest it seems since I could see River Sulduskoon about half a day’s ride south from the edge of the forest. I know of a…small village at the foot of the mountains west from here. We can rest and resupply there before we move on further south to the capital Darromar.”

She looks at him curiously, obviously hearing the hesitation in his voice. “So you want to follow the river to this small village? Why did you hesitate just then?”

He clears his throat before answering. “It is nothing to worry about. And I think it’s best if we stay within the cover of the forest, at least for now.”

His vision finally goes back to normal and he sees Lauranna frowning in thought. “What’s the matter?”

She looks up at him with a worried look. “Are you sure about travelling in the forest? The elves here can be quite…unwelcoming.” Her frown seems to deepen, seemingly remembering something. “It won’t matter that we have elven blood, you know.”

He nods in agreement. “I know, but I think it should be safe enough considering that those bandits you told me about were able to hide out here.”

Despite his reassurance, she still looks troubled as she replies. “That’s another thing I’ve been pondering. Those bandits were humans. The elves in this forest would have never tolerated their presence this deep into their realm.”

“Well, they might not be patrolling this far south. This could be a safe area to travel in. We have to risk it nonetheless. As you know, I am still not at full fighting capacity. In here, we stand a chance at avoiding our hunters with some skill and luck.”

She doesn’t look convinced. “I hope you’re right, Kristov.”

After a moment, he replies, “I hope so too.”

 

* * *

 

 

A woman named Vorenia sits quietly in meditation in front of a small fire. She’s in a small cave hidden by shrubbery in the middle of a plain somewhere south of the River Sulduskoon. It’s currently well into midnight. Despite her attempts at meditation, the stump where her left arm was supposed to be burns painfully. She has managed to staunch the bleeding the night right after the battle, but the wound has now begun to fester. She has also developed a fever. She didn’t have enough healing salves or potions back then to completely close the wound. She will need to find a village soon or she will die.

She takes a couple of deep breaths determined this time to go into deep meditation, ignoring the pain. She doesn’t get a chance though as she suddenly hears a rustling sound. She opens her eyes in alarm and grabs her dagger from beside her, looking about to see what made the noise. She looks up and sees a large bat hanging from the top of the cave looking at her. “Stupid pest. I’ll teach you to startle me, you flying rat.”

She’s about to fire a spell when the bat’s eyes starts to glow faintly. She’s startled a second time when she feels a familiar sensation of someone touching her mind. She tries to resist it at first but then quickly realizes what this means. She instead opens her mind up, seeing as there is no point in struggling. It seems her master has found her. She whimpers in fear knowing that at this point, she can no longer hide her failures.

She feels the familiar sensation of tendrils digging into her mind, opening up her thoughts and memories. The tendrils quickly rifle through her memories of the battle two nights before. Her master does not possess a gentle touch and she groans as the tendrils begin to focus on the specific memories. Images begin to bloom in her mind, images of a battle that she should have won, but lost.

She sees herself locked in a battle of wills with Lauranna. Raw arcane energies wildly lashed out around the two of them as one tried to wrest control from the other. Nothing else existed. The concentration required to maintain any semblance of control was great. She remembers being shocked at what Lauranna tried to do. Until then, she didn’t think it possible to disrupt the casting of another by imposing your will on the weave. But she managed to recover quickly enough and was able to go toe-to-toe with her opponent in the battle of wills.

After several minutes of going back and forth in a dance of death, she finally felt Lauranna’s hold weaken somewhat. It invigorated her. She was close to finally wresting control of the arcane energies that surrounded them. She increased her efforts tenfold. Then suddenly, she felt Lauranna completely lost control. She almost screamed in triumph. She was about to direct all of the pent up energies at her enemy when suddenly, an explosion of light blinded her and she felt her left arm being burned off. She screamed in pain as she felt another smaller explosion from nearby. Her opponent laughed with glee. She fell to her knees, blinded and clutching the stump where her left arm should have been. She felt a third and more powerful explosion from down the hill. It was then she knew all was lost. With the destruction of the artifact, the undead army she had raised would fall and what remained of the mercenaries she hired would be routed or cut down. She groans in pain as her vision slowly returns. She looks up to see what had happened and saw the ruined corpse of Valtek lying in pieces on the ground. She also saw Lauranna walking towards one of her fallen allies, the paladin named Kristov, who seemed to have been caught in the second explosion along with the Halfling woman. She suffered shock and confusion as she looked closer at her enemy. It wasn’t Lauranna. Yes, she looked somewhat like Lauranna, she even had the same frayed dress, but the features were all wrong. Lauranna was lithe, but the woman she was looking at then had more defined curves, more voluptuous in a sense. She also had hair the color of blood. What was going on? Was this some unknown trick their spies failed to report? She could hear her say something as she got closer to Kristov. She took that chance then to make her escape. She felt cowardly, but she knew she needed to survive. She mustered what strength she had left and magically grabbed what was left of Valtek and teleported herself to a safe location a little ways up north.

Her vision suddenly snaps back into present as she painfully feels the tendrils recede from her mind. She falls back gasping for air. Her head feels like it’s about to split open. A booming voice suddenly resounded within her head. “YOU HAVE FAILED ME, WORM!”

She gasps for breath as she fearfully replies. “Master, please forgive me! I was caught off guard. I did not know she was capable of doing the things she did! Our spies—“

“SILENCE! I WILL HEAR NONE OF YOUR PATHETIC EXCUSES! I HAVE GIVEN YOU EVERYTHING YOU NEEDED TO CAPTURE LAURANNA. YET, YOU FAILED TO DO SO AND THE PRECIOUS ARTIFACT I HAVE LOANED YOU HAS BEEN DESTROYED!”

She whimpers at the force of the voice pounding in her head. “But I can still do it, master! I still have the soul stone you have given me! I can still capture her! Please! Give me another chance!”

The voice is silent for a while and Vorenia begins to fear that this is the end for her. But suddenly, the voice starts to boom a reply. “I WILL GIVE YOU ONE LAST CHANCE, WORM. I STILL MAINTAIN THE TRACKER WITHIN THE FOOL’S MIND. THEY ARE CURRENTLY NEAR THE SOUTHERN EDGE OF THE FOREST CALLED THE WEALDATH, EAST OF THE STARSPIRE MOUNTAIN. TRACK THEM DOWN. KILL THE PALADIN. CAPTURE LAURANNA. IF YOU FAIL, I WILL FIND YOU AND DEVOUR YOU SLOWLY.”

She desperately grabs at the life line she has been offered. “Yes, master! I will not fail you!” she replies, but the presence is no longer there and the bat has already flown out of the cave. She breathes a sigh of relief. The master has seen it fit to give her one last chance. She will not waste it. A painful death awaits her if she does.

She slowly gets up, groaning in pain. Her eyes fall on the large sack she has been carrying. Yes, as soon as she gets to a small village, she will restore herself and use the villager’s souls to reanimate Valtek. She will then hunt that bitch and take her down, whatever it takes. She still has the soul stone. It’s powerful enough to trap someone as powerful as Lauranna. Her spies from Amkethran falsely informed her that Lauranna is weakened and is no longer as powerful as she once was. This led her to underestimate her prey. But this time, she knows better. She will not underestimate her. She will succeed.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Been gone for so long. Sorry. Life has been hitting me hard lately and it's hard trying to find the time. For all of you who are still following this story, don't worry. I'm working on it now! :3 In the meantime, here's a teaser for the next chapter I'm currently working on. I'll update this once I'm finished with at least two chapters. :D Again, sorry for the delay and thank you for your patience!
> 
> UPDATE: Finally done with Chapter 12. I'm not confident with Chapter 13 so I'm not going to post it yet. :( Sorry. I hope you enjoy Chapter 12 though. :3

Kristov grumbles a little as he tries to make his way through the dense vegetation as silently as possible. The plant life in the Wealdath has not been very cooperative ever since they got deeper into the massive expanse of the forest. He has half the mind to just get it over with and use his katana to carve a path through, but it wouldn’t do for the wellbeing of his favored weapon. This was given to him as a gift on the day of his ascension as a paladin. It would be a complete disrespect to the gift-giver if he used it to cut a few plants that got in his way and caused him a minor irritation. Plus, the ruckus could attract unwanted attention. They’re deep enough into the forest now that he’s worried about running into something problematic that would very much like to slaughter them. He’s confident that he’s well enough to take care of any creature of the forest that would stand in their way, but wild animals aren’t the only dangers here. What he’s really worried about are the tribes of wild elves that roam near the edge of the forest. They’re not particularly friendly to outsiders, even if they do have elven blood running through their veins. It’s truly a miracle that they haven’t run into any of those problems yet despite being this deep into the Wealdath. He silently thanks Tyr for this blessing.

He pauses for a moment to look up through the canopy. It’s hard to judge the time this deep in the forest but not impossible. It’s probably midafternoon. He sighs. His initial calculations were off. He initially thought that it would take two and a half days of travel to get to Sabrahan, the small village near the foot of the Starspire Mountain, but they’ve been traveling for nearly four days now. He not only misjudged the distance, but he also failed to account for the terrain. This is a mistake he should have not made. He’s better than this.

He looks back for a moment at his companion, who is also trying her best to be as stealthy as possible. Lauranna seems to have an irritated look on her face and is muttering to herself. Her woolen dress occasionally snags in the dense vegetation. Kristov is impressed though. Despite her attire, she still manages to make her way through without making too much noise. She looks up at him, eyes showing a hint of irritation. Her voice manages to sound calm despite her apparent mood. “I told you we should have just climbed down that small gorge. It looked scalable.”

He shakes his head in amusement. “And here I thought an adventurer like you would be used to this type of terrain. Didn’t you tell me you’ve been through the Wealdath?” She bares her teeth attempting a smile, but she looks angrier instead. He chuckles at her. “Besides, as I said, we need to go deeper into the forest and going through that gorge would take us the long way around. Furthermore, I didn’t like the look of that place. It looked like it has something living in it from the scratches at the ledge and a foul smell seemed to emanate from down below.” She stares daggers at him but says nothing.

He chuckles and starts to move on. He may be amused by her irritation, but deep down he’s a little confused and worried at his companion’s demeanor. Ever since they left the bandit cave behind, Lauranna has started to become more irritable, little by little each day. It started as just an indignant sniff or an eye-roll every time he would tease her a little, but it has since become dark looks or even snapping retorts. What has happened to the calm and charismatic woman who remained jovial and verbally engaging despite her incarceration? He initially attributed it to their predicament and the mistakes he made at judging the time it would take to get to their destination, but he thinks it’s something much deeper. Is she worried about her familiar? Colleen did tell him once that if the bond was strong enough and deep enough, a magic user could feel their familiar’s pain and woes. Is this an indication that her familiar is indeed within the grasp of their enemies? No. She would have said something sooner. She would not keep something as important as this to herself. No, it’s something else. Something is bothering her. He’s tried to ask one time, but all he got was a confused look and a raised eyebrow, followed by an assurance that nothing is wrong. Then there were the whispers. There were a few times that he would hear her whispering to herself. This did not happen often, but he did catch a few inaudible words or phrases from her. Whenever he would turn around to look at her, the whispering would stop and she would just give him a questioning look. He has since given up trying to pry an answer from her, but he remains observant. This could be something troublesome, but it could also be nothing more than stress. Lauranna has been through a lot and the stress could be getting to her.

Besides, it’s not always dark looks and mood swings with her. For one thing, she has not tried to escape even once. And there were times that she would engage him verbally by asking him about his adventures as a paladin or even telling him some of her adventures. He’s learned quite a lot from her these past few days traveling through the woods, all the trouble she and her companions got into in Baldur’s Gate and Amn. She wouldn’t go into too much detail, especially anything that touches her parentage, but her stories are no less entertaining…and remarkable, he admits. He would like to meet this ranger from the mythical land of Rashemen and his “giant space hamster” companion one of these days. All her companions sound very interesting individuals from how she describes them, especially this Sarevok individual, who is a former enemy that is trying to reform. Kristov suspects though that Lauranna might have some feelings for this Sarevok fellow and she’s hiding it desperately. Why though? Jaheira sounds like a mother bear that would defend her cubs to the death if need be. Lauranna seems to hold her in high regard, perhaps even looking to her as a mother figure. And last but certainly not the least is her best friend Imoen, a woman Lauranna describes to be almost childlike with her antics and tomfoolery. It’s clear though that Lauranna loves her deeply like a sister. There is one person though that she briefly mentioned that seems to be a painful memory. A knight named Anomen. The only thing she would say about him is that he saved her life, nothing more. He could see a deep sadness in her eyes as she talked about him. Perhaps this knight is a lover who sacrificed himself to save her life? He would have to ask her of it if she permits.

Kristov is taken out of his musing when he suddenly hears rustling from behind them. He freezes and motions Lauranna to stop. He strains to hear for any other sound but is instead assaulted by a vile and pungent odor and a prickling sensation on his skin he’s all too familiar with. He quickly grabs Lauranna’s arm and begins to run forward as fast as possible considering the terrain. His companion yelps at the suddenness of it all. “Kristov, what in nine hells is going on?”

He doesn’t stop or look back. “Just keep running. This is no place for a fight.”

His companion doesn’t reply but does as she was told. The creature, whatever it is, begins a more hasty pursuit having realized that stealth is no longer in its favor. He could distinctly hear heavy footfalls and branches breaking behind them. Is there only one? He hopes so. Whatever it is, it sounds massive. He continues to run, swiping away branches with his one arm and keeping a hold of his companion with the other.

In his haste, he fails to see an exposed root on the ground. His foot gets caught and he catapults forward. He could hear Lauranna yelp in surprise as she is undoubtedly yanked forward with him. He grunts as he lands in a clearing, but training takes over as he does a roll and immediately gets up in one fluid motion, hands on the hilt of his katana, facing the direction of their pursuer. He quickly takes a look around for Lauranna but doesn’t find her. He starts to panic but is relieved upon seeing her stumble out of the thicket.

“What happened? Why are we running?” Lauranna asks in obvious vexation and with genuine confusion.

But he doesn’t have time to reply. The sound of massive footfalls and breaking branches is already upon them. And from the thicket bursts a massive troll, or what appears to be a troll at least. It looks…different. It’s as tall as any other troll he’d seen, about nine feet tall, but more massive, muscular, deformed. Its arms alone are like tree trunks in size. It’s sporting two massive yellowed tusks in its mouth, but one is broken and its skin seems to be of a darker grey and covered in pustules and scabs. Some of the pustules have burst, probably from running through the thicket, and are oozing a bluish, thick liquid. Curiously, there is a shackle around its neck with a chain dangling from it.

It starts to look around with eerily intelligent eyes and immediately sees Lauranna just a few feet in front of it. It snarls and starts to raise its right arm. Lauranna turns to see the creature behind her but seems to be frozen in place upon seeing it. What is she doing? “Get out of the way!” Kristov shouts as he begins to launch forward, but he knows he’s too late.

All of a sudden, a dark-skinned and black-haired elven man covered in bodily tattoos and wearing nothing but hide trousers and boots, dashes out of the thicket and quickly moves in between Lauranna and the massive troll. Kristov could see a flash of silver as the elf passes between Lauranna and the grotesque creature. The troll screams in agony and stumbles backward as a gash suddenly blooms on its belly spilling its dark blood and bursting quite a few of the pustules. The wound looks shallow though.

At the same time as the mysterious elf attacked, another elven man, dark-skinned with brown hair, seemed to have come out of nowhere and grabbed Lauranna, carrying her off to a safe distance away from the troll. Lauranna is on the ground and seems to be dumbfounded by the whole situation as the mysterious elf checks her to see if she’s fine. Kristov got a good enough look at the elves to know that they’re wild elves.

Satisfied that Lauranna is okay, the elf quickly joins his companion, who is currently dancing around the troll, avoiding its slow attack. He quickly rushes to Lauranna’s side while the elves are keeping the troll busy. By the time he gets to her, she seems to have snapped out of her confusion and is looking at the troll with murder in her eyes. He quickly grabs her by the shoulders and gives her a look over. “Are you okay? What in the hell happened? You froze!” he asks in annoyance and with a degree of worry.

Lauranna looks at him with confusion in her eyes. “I…I don’t know. I…”

He sighs and hears another massive roar from the troll. He quickly turns to see the two elves slicing away at it with silver blades while gracefully avoiding its swings, working in unison. The troll also seems to be covered in arrows now. He looks up at the trees and sees more elves on the branches firing away at the massive troll with their bows, but it doesn’t seem to be slowing the creature down. Its wounds seem to be healing faster than normal trolls. “We need to join the fight. The elves won’t be able to bring that thing down by themselves.”

His companion replies with a cold and controlled fury in her voice. “Agreed.”

Kristov looks at Lauranna and finds her calmer and more focused now. She’s looking at the creature closely, studying its movements. With that, he nods and joins the fight, trusting that Lauranna will do what she needs to do.

Kristov quickly dashes towards the fight and join the two elves in keeping the troll occupied while their respective companions do what they can at long range. He dodges a massive swing of the troll’s arm and quickly slices at its legs. Despite his katana being enchanted, it does little damage to the troll. What he took for scabs before are some sort of scale that’s adding to the troll’s already formidable defenses. One of the elves grabs onto the thick arm Kristov just avoided, skillfully climbs onto the troll’s massive shoulders, and buries his sword into the neck of the creature, just above the shackles, attempting to slice its head off. The creature roars in anger and attempts to grab at the elf. The elf dodges the attempt and summersaults off the trolls shoulders, landing gracefully behind Kristov. The other elf slices at one of the troll’s arm, and to Kristov’s surprise, it cuts deeper. Of course! There are parts of the troll that are not covered in those toughened scales. He also noticed that more than a few of the arrows are buried in between the scales. It seems that the elves have quickly figured out one of its weaknesses. Kristov adjusts accordingly and begins to target the exposed parts of the troll.

The three of them attack and evade, working in unison. While one distracts it, the other two attack. All three gracefully dance around the troll for a few minutes or so, but then the troll reveals a surprise. It begins to inhale, filling its massive lungs with air, and then belches out some sort of purple gas around it. Kristov and one of the elves manage to evade the mysterious gas, but the other elf isn’t quick enough. His right arm is briefly enveloped by the purple gas and now it looks burnt. The elf screams in pain as he stumbles back, trying to get away from the troll. The massive troll smells weakness and quickly capitalizes on it, going after the injured elf.

But before the creature could even get closer, miniature balls of fire suddenly starts to bombard it. Lauranna has finally started her attack. About damn time! He looks back and sees Lauranna where he left her, pointing imperiously at the troll while the rest of the miniature fireballs streaks towards their opponent. The balls of fire hit the troll causing miniature explosions. The spell seems to have done some damage. The troll howls in pain while being pelted by Lauranna’s spell. This act, unfortunately, caught the troll’s unwanted attention. With a deafening roar, it begins to rush at Lauranna with surprising speed; arms outstretched attempting to grab her. Kristov and the remaining uninjured elf quickly run after it, trying to bar its way and catch its attention, but the creature unceremoniously shoves them aside intent on the more dangerous target. Kristov is thrown back and slams into one of the trees with a grunt. The elf is thrown back in the thicket with a crash. Kristov tries to recover, staggering to his feet but falls back down on one knee. His vision is slightly blurry, but he sees Lauranna do a few backflips to create distance between her and the incoming troll while leaving behind a hazy image of herself for distraction. The troll grabs at the image and attempts to crush it in its meaty paws, but the image shatters and is replaced by a glowing skull instead. The skull screeches and it explodes in a blinding light. The troll howls in agony. Its flesh has been seared. And where there were once two black eyes, there’s nothing left but two bleeding hollows. The troll blindly swings its arms, desperately trying to hit its attackers. It, once again, belches out the purple gas, but there isn’t enough this time around. Lauranna, meanwhile, chants another spell and makes a motion of punching the ground in front of her with her slightly glowing fist. A massive, disembodied hand suddenly appears above the troll, forming a fist and hitting the troll squarely on top of the head with a resounding boom, sending shockwaves along the ground. The troll groans and staggers for a moment, obviously reeling from the mighty blow and drops face first on the ground. One of the elves suddenly jumps down from the branches, brandishing a silver sword. In one fluid motion, he lands on the troll’s back and buries his blade on the side of the neck where the other elf wounded it. He slices the troll’s head cleanly off, the shackles flying off into the distance, and quickly dashes for cover as Lauranna begins to throw a massive ball of flame at the still twitching body. The ball of fire explodes, enveloping the troll in a bright orange flame.

Kristov, having recovered from being slammed into a tree, rushes to Lauranna as she walks towards the burning body of the troll. He reaches her and finds Lauranna looking at the body with curiosity. “What took you so long to attack? Had a stroll in the woods first?” he asks annoyed.

She replies calmly without any hint of spite in her voice and still curiously observing the burning body of the troll. “Apologies, it’s a little difficult without my arcane focus. I need it to accurately channel and weave raw arcane energies. It takes time for me to prepare without a focus.”

He looks at the troll’s body, trying to see what she’s observing. “What are you looking at? Is it still alive?”

“Yes, but barely, which I find rather curious. For a troll, it has uncanny resistance to fire. Look,” she points at the stump where the head should have been. “See the flesh? It’s still trying to regenerate and trying to regenerate a head no less.”

Kristov takes a closer look and sees what she means. The flesh on the stump, while sizzling from the intense heat, is twitching somewhat and is trying to form the start of an ear. He tightens his grip on his weapon and readies himself. “Abomination…” is all he could blurt out.

“Yes, what a curious creature. It’s probably an experiment of some sort by a wizard that has gotten loose. It’s quite obvious from the shackle around its neck.”

“Well, what should we do? The flames are starting to die down!”

Kristov’s question is answered when the elf that jumped down earlier suddenly plunges his silver blade deep into the troll’s back. The troll does one final violent twitch before finally laying still, the flames finally consuming it. He looks at the elf. This one is coppery skinned and he looks…older. His dark eyes seem to hold more wisdom. He’s wearing a thin leather cord wrapped around his temple. He has short cropped white hair but has five thin braids covered in colorful beads running from the nape of his neck down to the small of his back. Like the others, he is bare-chested and is only wearing hide trousers and boots, but he’s covered in more tattoos than the others. His face is also tattooed, unlike the others who only have tattoos on the body.

The elf pulls out his weapon from the troll’s back. Stuck to the point is some sort of black crystal. Lauranna moves to examine the crystal, but the thing shatters into dust before she could even get to it. Kristov then realizes that the other elves up the trees, all dark skinned with black or brown hair and scathingly dressed in hide or leather including the women, have their bows knocked and aimed at them. He quickly grabs Lauranna before she could take another step and pulls her behind him. The black-haired elf, who was fighting the troll in melee with him before, is now flanking the older elf in front of them, silver blade, the same as the older elf perhaps, held at the ready. This one also has short hair but has three braids with less colored beads holding them together. The one that was injured, the brown haired one, is currently being tended to by another elf, a woman with coppery skin and long red hair spilling freely down her back. She looks to be someone important since her face is as tattooed as the older elf.

The older elf inspects his weapon, satisfied that the two of them are not making a move. The blade is quite curious. It has the length of a long sword, but the blade is thinner and slightly curved with runes covering the entirety of it. The grip is wrapped in leather and cloth, but the entirety of the sword seems to be made from a single piece of silver. The sword is forged beautifully and intricately, the blade glitters as sunlight touches it.

Lauranna takes a step forward, heedless of the many bows currently aimed at her. “May I take a closer look at that blade?”

Kristov’s eyes widen in disbelief. He grabs Lauranna’s arm and pulls her closer to whisper in her ears. “In case you haven’t noticed, we have about twelve of them, maybe more in hiding, in the trees ready to turn us into pincushions.”

Lauranna doesn’t reply but continues to look at the elf in front of them. She suddenly speaks in a language he does not know. The older elven man slightly cocks his head to the side waiting for Lauranna to finish. When Lauranna is finished, he waits for a few moments before replying in the same language, Kristov assumes, as Lauranna was speaking in. He regrets not learning his mother’s language. His diplomatic skills might have been useful in this situation. He turns to Lauranna. “What did he say?”

“He says the swords were made for them to hunt these creatures down and kill them. Hmm. I did find it curious that wild elves would possess such an intricate weapon. It looks kind of out of place.”

Before Kristov could reply, the older elf starts to speak again in elvish. He looks at Lauranna, whose face remains impassive and unreadable. When the elf is done, Lauranna turns to him. “He wants to know who we are and what we’re doing here. He says we almost disrupted their hunt for this creature.”

“Well, tell them who we are and that we’re trying to find our way to a village called Sabrahan located near the foot of the Starspire Mountain.”

Lauranna raises an eyebrow at him. “Really? Just like that?”

“We have no reason to lie. Perhaps we can gain their trust by telling them the truth.”

Lauranna sighs before replying. “Very well.” She turns to their captors and starts to speak. The elves are listening intently. The eyes of the elves in front of them widen upon hearing the name of the village. After Lauranna is done talking, the older elf turns around and walks to the elven woman tending to the wounded one. The black-haired elf remains weapon still poised at the ready. The older elf and the elven woman are having a hushed discussion, with the woman occasionally looking at their two prisoners, particularly Lauranna.

Some of the elves up on the trees begin to shout a word he knows all too well. He may not know much about his mother’s tongue, but this word he knows, “biir”, an insult to a half-elf like him. He sighs. “This isn’t going to end well.” He whispers to himself.

Lauranna chuckles in amusement. “Don’t assume. We may get out of this unscathed yet. Their leader seems…amiable enough. Plus, despite their reclusiveness, wild elves don’t go around killing anything they find trespassing in their lands, as long as they deem it not a threat. And finally, we did help them kill that thing. They might be merciful.”

Kristov sighs. He does not find comfort in his companion’s words. He’s met purebloods before. Some tolerated him, even becoming good acquaintances or friends even, while others would rather throw him off a cliff. One time, he met a gold elf who seemed to think he’s some sort of stain whose very existence is an affront or at the very least very offensive. Lauranna might be confident this will go in their favor, but he’s not. So he plans for an escape. He quickly assesses their position and the position of each elf within the vicinity he can see. He notes each escape route they can use if ever the elves decide it would be better to just kill them. It’s never wrong to be prepared.

While he’s planning for the worse possible outcome, the elven man and woman seem to have finished their conversation and are making their way back to them with the woman leading. She’s now holding a gnarled staff topped with a green crystal. How did he not see that before? The staff, despite being gnarled, looks alive with small green leaves sprouting all over its length. “Well, this is going to be problematic,” he thought. And then suddenly, a large owl with black and brown feathers glides down from somewhere in the canopy and lands on top of the woman’s staff. Its large yellow eyes gaze at the two of them intently. This is not just problematic. Escape is downright impossible. She’s a druid and most likely a master of her woodland realm.

The elven woman stands in front of them with a warm and welcoming smile on her face. It is spoiled though since the younger elf with the black hair and the older one are flanking her, both appearing to be relaxed but poised and at the ready should he and Lauranna try anything. “Welcome strangers, welcome to our part of the forest.” Kristov is surprised that she can speak the common human tongue, but it seems awkward like she’s unused to it. She pronounces some of the words wrong, but it’s still understandable. “My name is Bellara Skyhowler, a druid of the Sunchaser Tribe. This is my father, Heiro Skyhowler,” she motions to the older elf. “He is our chieftain.” She then nods to the younger elf with black hair. “And this is Velor Moonwhisper my father’s second. First of all, I apologize for the treatment, but my father and the others do not trust outsiders, even those who are of the blood. You already told us your intended destination, but why are you seeking the village of Sabrahan? And why go by such a dangerous road?”

Lauranna opens her mouth to reply, but he gently puts her hand on her arm before she can do so. She looks at him and nods in understanding. He turns to the elves in front of them. “Thank you for the welcome, Bellara Skyhowler. There is no apology needed. We are the trespassers here. It is your right to question and be cautious. To answer your question, we are seeking a safe place to rest and resupply before we move south and out of the forest. As for why we chose this path, well, the short answer is we didn’t. We never intended to enter your realm. Circumstances beyond our control forced us down this road.”

Bellara nods as she listens to his reply. She then begins to translate what he said to her fellow tribesmen. Some of the elves begin to murmur at one another, but Velor is the one to voice out a reply, quite angrily though. Bellara listens to what Velor has to say. She then turns back to them with a sigh. “He wishes to know what circumstances you speak of. And,” she hesitates, “he wants her to answer not you.” She nods at Lauranna.

Kristov sighs and motions to Lauranna. Lauranna steps forward to answer the question. “Our group was ambushed many leagues south of here by a necromancer. We fought back, but it was chaos. Magic ran rampant and unchecked. The two of us were teleported away unintentionally and we found ourselves less than four days travel east from here.”

Bellara’s face darkened at the mention of a necromancer. She then begins to translate what Lauranna said. Kristov is a little apprehensive at revealing this much. This will undoubtedly lead to more questions. And he was right. The elves are now murmuring angrily amongst themselves. This time, it’s Bellara’s father who voices out a question. Bellara listens intently and nods at his father. She then turns back to the two of them, her face unreadable. “My father wishes to know why a necromancer would ambush you, but I think I already know the answer judging by your face. You,” she points at Lauranna, “your face is known to me.” Bellara smiles knowingly.

* * *

 

“ _THEY KNOW! THEY KNOW! KILL THEM! KILL THEM ALL!_

_“NO, DON’T KILL THEM ALL. SOME OF THEM LOOK TASTY. THEY COULD BE…USEFUL.”_

_“THEY SHOULD ALL SERVE US. THEY ARE NOTHING BUT UNCIVILIZED MONGRELS WALLOWING IN THE DIRT. I AM A GODDESS! KNEEL BEFORE ME, WORMS!”_

_“SHUT UP! SHUT UP! THEY’LL HURT US! THEY’LL KILL US! HURT THEM FIRST! KILL THEM!”_

Lauranna is caught by surprise by Bellara’s words and takes a step back. Why is she surprised? All the elves in the forest should have heard by now. And why is she angry? No. She did nothing wrong in Suldanessellar. She saved Suldanessellar! She has nothing to fear. But they might still kill her because of who she is. No! She’s no longer a Bhaalspawn. She needs to run. She needs to get away. Maybe with a well-placed fireball and a well-timed invisibility spell she can escape unscathed. Bellara is looking at her funny. She has to act now!

She suddenly feels a warm hand on her shoulder. She looks up and sees Kristov’s face. He looks worried. “It’s all right. Nobody is going to hurt you. I promise,” he whispers to her.

Of course, nobody is going to hurt her. Didn’t she just assure Kristov that the elves are not going to kill them? Kristov is acting weird for some reason. She looks at Bellara, curious as to what she means. “How do you know me?”

Bellara smiles warmly at them. “We trade with Suldanessellar sometimes. My father has good relations with Queen Ellesime. We went there not two moons ago and heard a tale of treachery and deceit and the heroism that stood up to combat it. One of the blood, a woman with hair like spun gold and deep blue eyes, along with her companions, thwarted a madman’s ambition and drove back his host consisting of demons and the hated Drow. They even destroyed a massive shadow wyrm. They were very accurate in their description of you. I am honored at your presence, Savior of Suldanessellar.”

Lauranna blushed at the title. “Oh. It was nothing. We just did what any decent person would do.” She could hear Kristov silently sigh in relief.

Bellara’s smile deepens at Lauranna’s words. “Such modesty,” she chuckles. She turns back to her tribesmen and begins to translate what was said between them and of who Lauranna is. As the other elves listened, more than one widened their eyes in surprise and they begin to murmur excitedly at one another. Velor even nodded in respect at her. Bellara’s father though remains silent. He looks at her head to foot, face unreadable.

Lauranna is about to ask another question but Heiro addresses her first, face still stoic and unreadable.  _“We will guide you to Sabrahan. The village is not far and we should get there before sunset. But we must dispose of this abomination’s body first. After, we will rest for a while at a nearby stream before moving on.”_

Bellara nods in agreement but has a smile of amusement on her face.  _“Will we be making camp in Sabrahan, father?”_

Heiro sounds annoyed when he replies. _“No! Not during midsummer’s eve. Once we make sure they are safe, we will move north and hunt the third abomination.”_

With a glint of mischief in her eyes, Bellara bows mockingly at her father.  _“As you wish, oh wise chieftain.”_ Heiro ignores his daughter’s teasing though and turns around and walks towards the brown haired elf, who has apparently recovered from his injuries and is sitting and watching the exchange curiously. Bellara must have healed her. Velor tilts his head at her in respect, mouth curved into a small smile and with a glint in his eyes, before following his chief. They start to converse in hushed tones. From what Lauranna could hear, they are discussing which path to take to the village. The other elves have decided to move on, perhaps to scout the path ahead and make sure nothing else dangerous is within the area, but not all.

Some of the elven women have jumped down from the trees and are now inspecting Lauranna and Kristov quite unabashedly while murmuring amongst themselves. In all the commotion, Lauranna didn’t realize that Bellara has moved off somewhere. While she’s trying to look where she’d gone off to, she hears Kristov’s startled cry. She turns around to find one of the older women gripping Kristov’s head with her two hands and is inspecting his face quite thoroughly, her eyes intense and serious. Another one is crouched on the ground behind him and is inspecting his backside, eyes filled with curiosity. He tries to extricate himself from the older woman’s grip, but she’s stronger than she looks. Kristov is forced to talk while suffering through the inspection. “Lauranna, what did they say?”

She replies while being subjected to the same inspection as Kristov, but not as roughly. “They’ll escort us to the village, which is not too far. Heiro says we’ll be there before sundown. After that, they’ll move on north to hunt down another one of these trolls. There is more than one.”

The woman inspecting Kristov’s face has decided to shift her attention to his ears, while the one crouched behind him is contemplating on finding out whether or not a half-breeds backside is the same as a purebloods. “Can you please tell them to stop? If not, tell them to not be so rough!”

She ignores Kristov for the moment. While one of the elves is sniffing and inspecting her hair and another poking her breasts, Lauranna ponders on the exchange between Bellara and her father. From what it sounds like, the elves are familiar with the village. Kristov did say that the village has had good relations with the tribe of wild elves that roam these parts. But why did Bellara’s father react the way he did when asked whether they would be camping near the village? And what’s the significance of it being midsummer’s eve?

_“THESE SAVAGES LOOK SCRUMPTIOUS.”_

_“SILENCE, HARLOT!”_

What was she thinking about? Oh yes, Heiro’s reaction at the suggestion of spending the night near the village. Curious. But that’s not the only thing on her mind. She looks around and finally sees Bellara kneeling beside the burnt corpse of the troll. The magical fires have finally died down and there is nothing left but a burnt husk. She politely extracts herself from being inspected and follows Bellara, leaving Kristov behind at the mercy of the overly curious women. The one crouched behind Kristov has finally decided to find the answer to her question and starts to poke at Kristov’s buttocks. Kristov yelps and tries to fend her off while his mouth is being inspected by the older elven woman, his face red clearly in mortification. The other women start to laugh uproariously. Lauranna manages to hear Kristov yelp one more time before the commotion drowns his protests out. “Lauranna!”

Lauranna approaches the kneeling druid, who seems to be chanting in a hushed whisper. Her animal companion now perched on a nearby small rock outcropping, watching Lauranna approach. She stops just a few steps behind the druid, waiting for her to finish her spell. As she looks closer at what Bellara is doing, she notices tiny sprouts starting to grow around and on the burnt remains of the troll. After a few minutes, Bellara finally straightens up and takes a few steps backward to stand beside Lauranna. The owl silently glides and lands on top of Bellara’s staff. Bellara admires her handiwork as a small tree begins to grow on the corpse. Lauranna can’t help but be jealous. She’s always admired how druids can make life grow in the most unusual of places. She, on the other hand, only has the power to hurt and destroy. As the tree continues to grow, Bellara looks at her sideways. Probably seeing the question in her eyes, she begins to explain what this creature is.  _“These…trolls began to appear last season. They have killed many in the forest, including some of our hunters and foragers. At first, we tried to hunt them down like any troll but found our weapons or magic had little to no effect on it. This particular creature, we found wreaking havoc in Sabrahan. We rushed to save the villagers, who we have made a peaceful agreement with, and managed to fend it off, but not before it killed many. It was then that we found out what these things truly were; foolish creations of man for their war that has gotten out of control and escaped their grasp.”_

Lauranna nods in understanding.  _“Yes, I thought so as well. Tethyr has been gripped with a civil war in the past ten years. I’ve heard of many atrocities committed all for the sake of power.”_

Bellara sighs.  _“Yes. That is why we Sy-tel-quessirs live in seclusion. Humans can be so foolhardy and selfish. I admire their drive to taste life and everything it has to offer, but they can also be brash and oblivious to the consequences of their actions. This abomination is a prime example.”_  She pauses for a moment before continuing, eyes filled with sadness.  _“In any case, one of the villagers, a magic weaver, found a chunk of this creature’s flesh and studied it as me and my tribesmen rested and recuperated from the battle. It took him some time, but he finally deduced that this creature is effectively immortal and indestructible, but found a single weakness; blessed silver. He also said that its immortality should have a source within its body and that it should be susceptible to the blessed silver as well.”_

Lauranna perks up at the mention of a source.  _“I see. It’s the black crystal your father pulled out of the body before.”_

Bellara nods in agreement.  _“Yes. It took us a while to figure out where the source is, but we did with the help of the villagers. Their blacksmith fashioned the silver weapons we have now and I called upon the Earth Mother to bless these weapons. We then began to hunt these creatures down one by one. So far, we have killed only two, including this one. But our scouts have informed us that there are three more roaming the forest, each one seems to be unique from the others. In this case, this one can belch forth a powerful poisonous gas that can eat away at any living thing it touches and its skin is covered in scales that make it a lot tougher. Velor’s younger brother, Sebari, was lucky I got to him before the poison could set in further. The first one we killed was small, no larger than one of our children, but it could step in and out of the shadows at will as well as produce inferior duplicates of itself from its flesh to act as distractions while it attacked from the shadows.”_

Lauranna remains impassive outside, but she shivers inside. She has encountered trolls immune to fire before in her travels, but never with abilities such as these. Whoever created these things is insane.  _“What of the one who created these creatures? Do you plan on hunting them down as well?”_

Bellara frowns in disgust.  _”I usually am opposed to taking a life out of vengeance, but this time I will make an exception. Whoever created these abominations must be made to answer for all the lives their creations took and the imbalance it has caused within the forest.”_

Lauranna nods in agreement.  _“Good. I wish I could join you, but I have other matters I must attend to. Perhaps when all my troubles are over, I will come back and help you hunt these things down and apprehend the one who created them.”_

Bellara smiles at her. _“Thank you for the offer for we could use the help of someone as powerful as you in hunting these creatures down.”_  She pauses for a moment.  _“But you look troubled, hero, and I suspect this unnatural creature is not the cause, nor is it your current plight. Is it something I can help with?”_

Lauranna chuckles and blushes a little. She pauses for a moment before replying.  _“Please. I am no hero. Everything I have done, I have done so for personal reasons.”_

_“Aah, yes, but you still had a choice to have done things differently. But here you are, having saved many lives with your actions. You are a hero, Lauranna. Do not doubt it.”_

_“Many would disagree with you. Yes, I have saved many lives, but I have also been the cause of as many miseries. Or did the others in Suldanessellar not tell you who I am?”_

_“Aah, your parentage. Yes, they told me. But children are not always destined to follow their parents’ path. The parents may influence their lives, yes that is true, but the children will always have a choice on which path they will take in life. You have taken a much different path, a path of good.”_

Lauranna is silent for a moment, taking in what Bellara just told her. She opens her mouth to reply, but Bellara speaks over her.  _“Do not dwell too much on your parentage, Lauranna. Do not let the past shackle you. Continue as you always have and worry not of the past. It is the now and tomorrow that is important. Queen Ellesime is grateful for what you did for her and her people. As are we to some extent. You are a good person and a hero.”_

_“Sometimes I don’t feel like a good person. I do not doubt the good things I have done, but I cannot help but look back at the ripples my actions have caused, at the devastation and sorrow I left behind intentionally or not.”_

Bellara sighs before replying.  _“You doubt yourself. You dwell on the past and let it shroud the light of who you are now. Unless you learn how to embrace your past and let it go, this darkness you feel inside will never go away. No, do not bother denying it. I have felt it the moment I laid eyes upon you. Something is eating away at you, making you question yourself. You let it shackle you. This is not healthy.”_  Bellara looks deep in her eyes for a moment, genuine worry evident on her face. _“But I cannot force you to let go. You have to learn to do it yourself. All I can do for you is hope. You could be so much more.”_

With a last cryptic look, Bellara walks away, towards their intended destination. Lauranna watches her go for a moment and then looks back at the small tree that has grown over the burnt corpse of the troll. She contemplates Bellara’s last words for her. The tree looks healthy and strong. Small white blossoms have already begun blooming amongst the vibrant green leaves. Of the troll, there is nothing left but a moss-covered mound on the ground.

_“FOOL. SHE KNOWS NOTHING OF WHO WE REALLY ARE. HA HA HA HA HA!_

* * *

 

The journey didn’t take as long as Lauranna thought it would. It was close to sundown like Heiro predicted when he announced that they were only a couple of miles from the village, but there is still a lot of daylight left before dusk. The short journey was also uneventful. Heiro and Bellara accompanied them while the other elves would maintain a perimeter. Some of the elves, including Velor and Sebari, would scout the path ahead, occasionally coming back to report to Heiro.  Kristov would also occasionally suffer more teasing from the women of the tribe who are expertly traversing the canopy, gracefully jumping from one branch to another. Kristov is a good sport though and would just laugh embarrassingly or silently grumble as he takes the barrage. Some of the elves are not as jovial though. She has noticed that some would look at Kristov in distaste, including Velor. The young, black-haired elf would smile at her, but frown at Kristov whenever he would join them to report to Heiro about the path ahead. Heiro would just remain impassive though. Bellara, on the other hand, is quite pleasant. Despite mispronouncing some of the words, she is quite good in the common tongue and the two of them had pleasant conversations during the short journey. Bellara would inquisitively ask about the many cities and small towns or villages outside of the Wealdath and the people that dwell within them. Lauranna would then ask in turn about life in the forest and the many dangers within. Sometimes, when Lauranna’s questions would brush on the places in the forest the tribe would frequent or if there was any place where they are permanently based, Bellara would just chuckle and shake her head in amusement. There are just things that wild elves would never reveal to outsiders no matter how much they respect them.

Another question she would refuse to answer is anything about the village of Sabrahan. When Lauranna asked about the village and why her father reacted the way he did when asked if they would be staying near the village tonight, Bellara just giggled and said, “Oh, you’ll see.” Kristov’s reaction upon hearing their conversation was a low groan and he went tightlipped when she asked him the same question. This made Lauranna even more curious. What is it with this village? Lauranna just sighed and let it drop knowing that she would not be getting any answers from them.

Lauranna is suddenly taken out of her musings when Heiro calls for a halt. They’re currently in a small clearing bordered by dense foliage and thick tree trunks. He turns towards her and Kristov.  _“Sabrahan is less than a mile ahead of us. We will leave you here and will move on north. Tell the leader of Sabrahan that we have taken down the two trolls that were living near his village and will be going after the three that are left far north.”_  With that, he turns to walk towards the forest and disappears among the thick foliage, not even waiting for a word of thanks. Some of the women up on the trees call out to Kristov teasingly before they leave with the others.

Kristov steps up to Bellara while watching Heiro disappear into the forest, pointedly ignoring the elven women teasing him. “Your father isn’t much for greetings or farewell it seems.” He turns to look Bellara in the eyes. “Thank you for rescuing us from the troll and for guiding us through the forest. I wish there was something we could give as repayment.”

Bellara smiles warmly at Kristov’s sincere words. “There is no need for such. To tell you the truth, my father wanted to take you prisoner and interrogate you. He thought you might have a connection with the creation of the troll abominations we’re hunting.” Kristov’s eyes widen at this revelation, but Lauranna remains silent. She’s heard tidbits of their conversation before. “But I have managed to convince him otherwise. Lauranna’s reputation helped a great deal with this.” She chuckles as she finishes the last sentence.

Kristov visibly sighs. “Well, thank you nonetheless. I wish you happy hunting. We would join you, but we have other matters that we need to attend to.”

“Oh, Lauranna made the same offer. She said the same thing you did. Whatever this ‘other matter’ is, it must be of great importance indeed if it warrants greater attention than hunting mutated trolls rampaging through the forest, killing everything in their path.”

Lauranna quirks a small smile. Kristov looks sheepish as he replies. “I’m sorry. It is of great importance but I do not mean to imply that it is greater than your troubles.”

Bellara laughs at Kristov’s expression. “Oh don’t worry, Kristov. I did not mean anything by it.” She smiles warmly at the two of them. “Whatever problem you two are rushing headlong into, I truly wish you luck and success.”

_“THIS BUFFOON IS LEADING US TO OUR DEATH AND SHE WISHES HIM LUCK AND SUCCESS? I SHOULD DESTROY HER WHERE SHE STANDS!”_

_“HUSH, THE SCRUMPTIOUS ONE DOES NOT KNOW, YOU FOOL.”_

_“DO NOT SILENCE ME, HARLOT! I WILL RIP OUT YOUR ENTRAILS AND USE IT FOR A BELT!”_

_“COME AND TRY IT THEN, YOU INSANE MONGREL!”_

Lauranna’s vision blurs for a moment and she wavers. Kristov thankfully catches her and Bellara is quickly at her side, eyes filled with concern. “Lauranna, are you alright?”

Lauranna shakes her head and her vision slowly returns to normal. “Yes, don’t worry. I’m just tired. The battle with the troll must have taken a lot more from me than I thought.”

“ _LIAR…”_

Kristov’s eyes are filled with doubt at her explanation, but he doesn’t say anything. Bellara looks doubtful as well but is more concerned. Lauranna quickly straightens up and opens her mouth to reassure them that she’s alright, but Velor and Sebari suddenly appear from the direction Heiro disappeared from. Velor looks at her curiously before turning to Bellara.  _“Bellara, your father says to hurry. He wishes to be away from the village before nightfall.”_

Bellara looks annoyed when she turns towards Velor but answers him patiently.  _“Tell father I will be there in a moment. I’m just saying my farewells to our guests.”_

Velor nods and turns to go, but before that he flashes Lauranna a small smile before disappearing into the woods. Sebari doesn’t leave though and seems to be thinking something over. Bellara then turns back to Kristov. “The village isn’t far. They will give you succor. Just…be careful tonight. They also have a priest, so you can have Lauranna checked to see if anything is amiss.” Kristov nods. His face is impassive for some reason. Bellara turns to her before she leaves though. “I wish I could stay to look you over, but my father is not a patient man.” She sighs. She takes Lauranna’s hand and gives her an amber the size and shape of a large walnut she took out from her satchel. “But take this.”

Lauranna curiously examines the deep orange amber. Its smooth surface is warm to the touch and it seems to give off a soft glow. “What is it?” she asks inquisitively.

Bellara smiles at her. “You said you would like to help us hunt down the trolls and whoever made them once you’ve finished with your problems.” She looks at the amber in her hand. “This will help you find us. Just enter the forest and hold this close to your heart while thinking of me. I will sense you and send to you Aurum.” She nods at the owl currently perched on a low branch above them watching everything closely. “She will guide you to wherever I am.”

Lauranna looks at the amber in her hand and then looks back at Bellara. “I will come back to help once I’ve taken care of my problems. I promise.”

Bellara smiles warmly at her. “I will hold you to that promise, Hero of Suldanessellar. May the Earth Mother watch over and guide you.” With that, she turns and walks into the forest.

Sebari, realizing that he’s the only one left with Kristov and Lauranna, looks up in surprise. Having made up his mind, he quickly jogs towards Lauranna and Kristov. Red-faced, he smiles sheepishly at her while handing her a necklace with a small piece of wood carved into an eagle with its majestic wings spread wide.  _“Thank you…for saving my life. This totem has brought me luck and saved my life many a time, may it do so for you as well.”_ He then quickly turns and runs into the forest disappearing without a sound.

Lauranna watches Sebari go with a smile. She looks back at the conversations she’s had with Bellara as Kristov quietly checks on their packs before they move on to the village. When they left Suldanessellar, she was under the impression that most of the elves blamed her for the destruction of their city. She agreed with them too. She is the reason why Jon Irenicus managed to get his hands on Bhaal’s essence, thereby giving him the perfect tool for his revenge and to go through with his mad plan of becoming a god. When she and the others left Suldanessellar, she could see the look in their eyes blaming her for their misery. Some even despised or feared her knowing what she was. But what Bellara said was completely different. The elves of Suldanessellar hailed her as a hero. Did she just imagine those look of fear and anger then? Was it all her imagination? It was so real…

She feels a warm hand gently grasp her shoulder. She turns to look at Kristov. “We need to go. We’re losing light.”

She nods her head and silently turns to follow Kristov to this…mysterious village, but questions still burn in her mind. Did the elves in Suldanessellar really hail her as a hero? Why? She was the one to blame for their plight. Were those looks of fear and anger just tricks played by her mind?

The short walk to the village was a very silent one, with Lauranna deep in thought and Kristov occasionally looking back at her in worry.

* * *

 

A chill wind blows through Darromar as the sun slowly sets. Many of its citizens are still up and about doing whatever chore that needs to be done before the night comes. There are still those few who are celebrating the metropolis’ liberation from a tyrant, but that has since become old news.

Augustus Al’Gorath sits quietly within one of the many guest chambers in the royal palace, sipping sardonically the exquisite Calishite wine in his hand while reading a hastily written note from one of his spies. It seems that the army the queen has sent to apprehend the Bhaalspawn has been spotted two days ride north of the Ithal Road, just south of the River Ith. His spy indicated that they seem to be heading north. He smiles. Vorenia has failed in more than one task. Their ‘master’ is practically seething at her failures. This will make manipulating Vorenia easier. He chuckles as he folds the note and burns it using the candle on his writing desk. He puts the half-burnt note in a small copper bowl to let the fire consume it. “You have made a grave error, Gideon. Convincing the queen to bring the Bhaalspawn back to the capital alive will be to my advantage,” he whispers to himself.

He moves on to another report, one from an agent here in the palace. It seems they have found another Harper agent. That would make it three that they’ve found in the last two weeks. Good. This will provide more distraction for the ‘master’ while he continues with his other plans. But he worries this will not last long. The Harpers will not allow more of their agents to disappear without a trace. They would undoubtedly start maneuvering soon to find out what has become of their comrades. Augustus cannot have that happening. He is so close now in completing his plans. But before that, he needs to make sure that the Harpers will remain oblivious to what is happening within the palace walls. He will need to see his ‘master’ soon, no matter how distasteful, and convince him to free one of the Harpers, properly dominated, to lay a false trail for their brethren. To underestimate the Harpers would be folly. They have toppled governments and brought tyrants down to their knees with just the right whisper or death here and there. The ruse needs to be flawless. The Harpers need to be distracted just long enough for his other plots to bear fruit. He can quietly dispose of them later once all is said and done.

But his grand scheme hinges on the Bhaalspawn arriving here in the capital safe and within his grasp, so he will need to send Vorenia some assistance in apprehending her. This, in turn, will make Vorenia more amiable. Yes, with her help, he can dispose of their so-called ‘master’.

He burns the note and tosses it into the small copper bowl. Yes, once all is said and done, all the power will be his, finally. All the planning and scheming in the shadows, all the suffering he had to endure to get to where he is now will have been well worth it. All the pieces are coming into place. Once the Bhaalspawn is safely within his grasp, everything else will follow.


End file.
